Xanthy choked on her own saliva. "The Sovereign and the Heiress?" Her voice echoed across the dark expanse, her throat constricting at the mention of the two leaders of the organizations that she had run from. Even in the Realm of the Lost, they managed to get back to her.

The being cocked its head to one side. "Didn't you hear me?"

"I—No, I heard you just fine," Xanthy licked her lips even though she couldn't tell if her lips were chapped or not. "I'm surprised that you know about them."

The being threw its head back and laughed. It sounded s foreign in this place of suffering. "Those two are souls whom I wished were never born!" it said, fanning its face with a hand. "Of course, I know them. I know everything that goes on on the island, including their crimes!"

Xanthy knitted her eyebrows. "You mean there is more than what the rumors say?"

The rumors being that the Heiress and the Sovereign had been doing illegal magic for years. Now, there's supposedly more? The being clapped its hands as if it's excited about that fact. "Certainly! They have more plans than that thing they're telling you."

"Plans..."

"What have they told you?" the being leveled its gaze towards Xanthy.

Xanthy tapped her chin as she narrowed her eyes on the grass. Her previous encounters with the heads of the organizations floated to the front of her mind. "The Heiress wants to unite the thrones into one using my legacy," she held up two fingers. "The Sovereign wants the same thing except that she wants me to do the unifying."

The being didn't look or sound impressed. "I see."

"What do you mean, 'you see'?" Xanthy faced the being and waved her hand in the air. "Are they planning something else?"

"Why do you think they want to create one throne from all the thrones?"

Xanthy scratched the side of her face. "Because they wanted to unite the races?" she laid out her palm to what was supposed to be the sky. "Because they wanted to escape destiny and some other vague stuff?"

The being shook its head. "They want to create one throne so that they can access my heart," it put a hand to its chest as if to prove a point. "They want purer magic. They want more power. They are after my core."

"How did they even find out about that?"

"Probably from the old Keiju manuscripts," the being clasped its hands together. "There are many of those scattered around the island. They chronicled everything, from the myths and literature of old, the prayers and traditions, up to the certain truths about this world and what's beyond. The Heiress and the Sovereign perhaps got a hold of one of those tomes."

"Somehow those included a mention of your core?" Xanthy crossed her arms. It wasn't very smart of the Arbotro to leave manuscripts that could endanger the entire island lying around like that.

The being bobbed its head. "They have been looking for it ever since. They have come close and are coming even closer now."

Xanthy didn't like where this was going. "What do you know?"

"They have seized control of the island after Nevrin's death," the being said, referring to the deceased High Queen as if she's an acquaintance. Memories of what happened in Lanteglos— things that Xanthy didn't want to remember—flashed across her mind. "They divided the island into two and now rule each part."

Bile rose up Xanthy's throat just as her mouth dried up. Still, she forced herself to ask, "All this happened because the Virtakios is not there?"

The being tucked its hair behind its ear. "That and other factors."

"June's drawback," Xanthy said. "Whose fault is that? Why did the prophecy choose him to kill his mother? Why did he have to almost die and require me to sacrifice my soul?"

"I don't know the answer to that," the being's voice was quieter than a whisper.

Xanthy threw her arms up in the air. Frustration gurgled in her stomach. "Who even delegates these prophecies?"

The being blew a heavy breath that reflected most of how Xanthy was feeling. "I made the synnavaimis to be ever-evolving," it said. "I don't control which path they are headed nor do I understand every transformation they undergo. The oracle synnavaim is the most flexible out there. It even predicted my death."

Xanthy froze. "Your...death?"

"I'm going to be killed in a war," the being said as casually as saying it had ajilte for breakfast. "That's why I'm doing my best to stop any from happening."

"T-that's impossible," Xanthy wagged a finger in the being's direction. "That can't happen!"

"It will happen," the being said, stressing that specific word like it's certain. Final. "Prophecies are a thing of their own. No one can control what the outcome will be and knowing your future doesn't affect your current actions and may even lead you to the very thing you have been avoiding."

"So with June..." Xanthy's voice died down before she raised her eyes to meet the being's scalding light. "Do you mean that there are several factors that went on that eventually have to boil down to that?"

"So many choices that went on and he's probably reaping the consequences," it said.

"Then why did it have to be him?"

The being hummed as if the question amused it. "It's the real question, isn't it?" it tilted its head to one side. "Why me? Why him? Why you? It gives us the power to start questioning what could have happened if only we haven't been chosen. The answer to that is still the same. Fate gave you a tool. It's up to you what you're going to do with it."

"A drawback is not a tool!" Xanthy jabbed a finger against the grass. "His own fate doomed him to die!"

"If you haven't made your choice, then he would've died truly," the being said in a tone that was not too kind. "If you hadn't stepped in and cured him, you wouldn't have found yourself here, learning about the real war that you're about to fight."

Xanthy paused. That made sense. "Is this what Rutoria was saying that whatever I choose will always lead to war?" Indeed, that encounter felt like it happened years ago.

"War is inevitable," the being said. "As was my death."

"What will happen to the island if you die?" Xanthy asked. "Do you just plan to give up and not fight?"

"What use will fighting destiny be?"

Xanthy frowned. "You have a personal will. Use that to somehow save yourself."

The being exhaled in a short burst of breath. "I will think about that."

Xanthy crossed her arms. "That wasn't an answer."

Silence coated the darkness. It was thick enough that Xanthy heard a distant agonized wail again. Okay. That wasn't meant to go anywhere. "Just what is the Heiress?" she tried again, bringing their original topic back to the surface. "When I fought her, I sensed great magic in her soul, greater than anyone whom I have encountered. When I tried to leash her magic, it's as if my control simply passed through her. It didn't have any effect. When she was raising that spell to kill me, it's not in any branch of magic I knew of."

The memory of it all seared a fresh trail in her mind. She saw herself cowering in fear against the blinding power of the Heiress. Nyxis had come to her rescue. Nyxis plunged himself into the cliff and into the violent sea below. His death still rang fresh in Xanthy's ears. It gave her heart a guilty and shameful twinge.

The being laid her hand on the glowing grass, turning the blackness a little closer to gray. "The Heiress had been mining magic from the heart itself. She had been doing so for the past nine hundred years."

Saliva went back the wrong way in Xanthy's throat. "Nine hundred—"

"Pure magic has the power to cheat everything, including the laws of decay and time," the being said as Xanthy coughed, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat. "The Sovereign has been following in her footsteps for a while now."

"Then why not simply kill them even before they cause any more harm?"

"I can't take lives. I can only give them," the being answered quickly with a clipped tone. Okay, it didn't like that idea. "Besides, they are connected to the heart as much as I am. Killing them would cause a ripple in the magic flow and would incur heavier consequences."

Xanthy squared her shoulders. "Then what are you planning to do about them?"

"I am going to tell you everything about them," the being leveled its faceless head in Xanthy's direction. "Hopefully, you can devise a way that will silence them forever."

Xanthy's chest constricted at the being's choice of words. Silence them sounds exactly like the act that she had been dreading to do. The being also seemed to be pinning the responsibility into Xanthy once more. Annoying but just this time, she'd humor it. She heaved a sigh off her chest and nodded at the being. "Tell me."

The being touched the grass again and they flickered in a shower of lights. The darkness recoiled at the sight of the shiny blobs as they spread outward and gathered in a large white sheet almost eye-level with Xanthy.

The being flicked its arm and a disturbing scene popped into view. It was of a derelict stone building with dirty walls and dark roofs. The sky was blood-red, the stars no longer were seen. It's nasty and scary. Xanthy knitted her eyebrows. What was going on?

"This is a slave factory on the shores of Cesterbrie," the being's voice floated in the darkness in a sort of ominous tone. "It is located in Dwarven Territory. It is built there by none other than the Sovereign."

Xanthy's stomach twisted. The Sovereign engaging in slave trade? Moreover, in foreign soil? "But how did she find a way out of the barrier?" she whirled to find the being floating mere inches off what was supposed to be the floor.

The being flicked its hand again. The scene changed to some sort of memory playing on the screen. A woman resembling the Sovereign crept in dark alleys, glancing this way and that. A silver cloaker glinted from her neck, catching stray bursts of light from whatever source. She carried nothing but herself and her clothes and was heading to an arch looming over a dark alley.

Where was this? Xanthy squinted at the playing memory. The walls were gray and thick. The way the arches curved were foreign. It's not somewhere in Umazure. Without a word, Xanthy watched the Sovereign head towards a corner where a dozen people waited.

The newcomers wore dark hoods. It seemed like the shadows were aiding them in concealing their faces. The Sovereign stopped and bowed at the hooded figures. Was that a sign of respect? Xanthy scoffed. As if that woman wasn't thinking of killing them later.

The Sovereign extended a hand and the hooded figure in the middle of the horde copied her movements. In a flash, their palms touched. Magic swirled from them in blades of light, slamming soundlessly against the stone structures flanking the alley. No lights appeared on the windows. No one ran out of any of the nearby structures.

The swirl of magic died down and the Sovereign and the hooded figures bowed to each other again before going their separate ways. The Sovereign turned around and walked from where she came from while the hooded figures simply extended their arms and bent the shadows around them. In a flash, they looked like they never were there. That type of magic wasn't foreign to Xanthy. She had seen it somewhere.

Somewhere...

A gasp filtered patf her lips. Cardovia. Their soldiers were all equipped with the ability to bend the shadows. Was this where it originated? Xanthy turned to the being who had its head turned to the screen even though it had no eyes. "What did they do?"

"A trade of some sorts," the being pointed towards the screen even though the images from it had stopped moving. "The Sovereign gave the Dwarves slaves from the island. The dwarves gave her materials for her weapons. The port of Cesterbrie is home to these kinds of transactions."

"Dwarves?" Xanthy's stomach tightened. "Why are they involved? They didn't bring anything with them!"

The being jerked its chin towards the screen. "If you look closely, they carried small stones in their palms. It's a compression capsule. You use it to conceal, store, and transport big objects. The dwarves are really on to something with their inventions."

Xanthy scratched her scalp even though it wasn't itchy. "Is that possible?"

"Very, if you're crafty enough," the being traced a lazy circle in the air. "That swirl of magic you've seen was the proof of a change of ownership of those capsules. Meaning that the incantations were no longer tied to the Sovereign and the Dwarf can now alter and disable the spells placed on them. Likewise to the materials in the other capsule in the Sovereign's hands."

"How did the Sovereign even end up at Cesterbrie?" Xanthy frowned. Her memory told her that Cyrdel once claimed that no one could get past the barriers around Umazure. "How did she get past the barrier that you put up, if the legends are to be trusted?"

The being snorted. "Oh, the legends are true, all right," it said before facing Xanthy fully. "The Sovereign has magic from the heart. She can do anything at this point."

A stone dropped in Xanthy's gut. Magic that could do anything...

Xanthy raised her eyes towards the being once more. "So that means..."

"The Sovereign has power over the Virtakios," the being's tone was far from bubbly and closer to being grim. "The Heiress does too."