2412, Diori 03, Kindreth

Crossing borders had never been this hard. Xanthy huddled next to Marthiaq in the line, jostling the quiver by her leg. Sunlight bore down on her like an oppressive hand. Before, people could simply raltz into the territories and conduct their business. No one gave a damn about crossing borders. But now...

It's as if Xanthy had woken up to chaos.

As soon as she opened her eyes and realized she's back, it was nothing but a series of blunders. Suddenly, the island was divided into two, several territories were occupied, and the Heiress and the Sovereign were rampaging around with no one powerful enough to stop them. Now, Xanthy couldn't even cross borders without being stuck in lines or asked a ridiculous amount of versallis for travelling.

She couldn't blame anyone except herself, though. When the Virtakios disappeared from the face of the island, Xanthy thought the Sovereign and the Heiress would simply back down and try to live honest lives. How naive. If life was that simple, Xanthy would have been High Queen of Umazure by now.

No, the Sovereign and the Heiress even teamed up and bombed down the innocent ice sprites' dwelling just to get her. Even immobile and stuck in the chalice, her existence was bound to cause chaos.

Well, after taking a trip in a dark, endless expanse filled with howling voices, she had to face this head on. No more running or surrendering souls to the chalice. Besides, that throne couldn't cure souls anymore after Ravalee used it to get Xanthy back.

A knot formed in her stomach at the thought. It's high time to take initiative and stop letting others fight her battles. In a way, and as much as she didn't want it, she started this war. She didn't want to end up in the Realm of the Lost and be reduced into a sliver of her voice, crying out of regret for all eternity. Then again, Besides, it seemed like she and her friends were the only ones who could stop it. Or at least, the only ones willing to.

So that brought Xanthy to the main point of this expedition. She has a plan but wasn't sure if the others would agree. For one, it was dangerous. There was also a large chance she would fail and doom them more than they already were.

Xanthy blew a breath. At least, for now, she got the others to agree they need all the thrones and the heirs with them in Penleth.

It had been a long debate with one perspective claiming Xanthy was just giving the enemy more advantage by gathering everything they wanted in one place. Xanthy was no tactician but she reasoned the heirs weren't just objects that couldn't think for themselves. If they try to negotiate and win the heirs over to their side, not only would they get more men but they would have ultimately won a territory over.

Xanthy was well aware of how flawed that argument was. Not only was she dividing the cavalry by proposing two retrieval teams, she was also making it all hard for them to focus on one thing which was the battle at Penleth.

But she's here now. She got her votes. People agreed with her. So why was she feeling like she wanted to turn back and fight in Penleth instead?

The issue has been roiling in her stomach since they left the fortress. When they get back with all the heirs and the thrones, Xanthy's going to propose her true plan. A plan she wasn't sure would sit well with everyone. It's a plan involving the thrones, the Virtakios, and of course, the heirs.

Xanthy knew she was pushing it with her leverage as the fairy with the strongest magic in the island. People generally looked at her like she knew what she was doing, like she was the leader just because she had a strong brand of magic. The truth was that Xanthy was just following her instincts. And her instincts told her her plan was sound.

Plus, the voice in her head confirmed it.

It's a clever plan, the voice of the Arbotro had commented, probing her mind when Xanthy asked it to. But not everyone will agree.

Xanthy grumbled inwardly and pointed out that she had indeed thought about it already. Everything relies on the heirs' consent to Xanthy's plan and by the looks of it, this war wasn't just for armies and swords. It's being fought with magic and wit, even though the island's supposedly endless vats were running low.

Reeca and Elred were bent on curbing the war to their favor through the use of their army and their fighting skills. They're missing the point. Xanthy could never imagine the Sovereign and the Heiress being that shallow. They wouldn't just focus on capturing the fortress. Xanthy had been to the Realm of the Lost and she came back with the knowledge of what their enemies were really planning to do.

They were looking for a way to drill into the Arbotro's core, extract all the magic, and rule over the island. To do that, they would need the thrones to bypass the security in Parkane. Hence, the territories being captured one by one so that the Heiress and the Sovereign could control their thrones.

Of course, being exposed to the core would kill anyone on sight. That's why they needed the Virtakios. The Heiress and the Sovereign would need Xanthy to call forth the core and have the Virtakios's rule-altering magic do its thing and make the core attainable.

They wouldn't even find Parkane without an oracle. And the last oracle happened to be with Xanthy's friends in Penleth. Hence, the siege. Hence, the battle.

In the grand scheme of things, Xanthy would have just gone along and let them have what they want. However, she saw how this war affected everyone. She saw the people who gave their lives for their cause to fight for the island. She saw how the Sovereign and the Heiress oppressed the people they have power over just because they must and they could. Lastly, she saw how magic bled off the island like something was sucking the life out of it.

Nobody batted an eyelash nor gasped in surprise when Xanthy informed her friends that the Sovereign and the Heiress were harvesting magic for themselves. She also told them that's the reason those women were able to survive for a long time and how they became that strong.

Now, Xanthy has to do something. Anything that could stop this from escalating further. Reeca and Elred had all been all about suppressing the enemy's army. Xanthy had been about going toe to toe with the Sovereign and the Heiress to avoid anyone from getting hurt, enemy soldier or no.

To avoid division among their ranks, the adults suggested they could give each other what they wanted. That ended with Reeca and Elred waging war in Penleth while Xanthy and the others sneaking through borders.

Today was a sunny morning and that wasn't something to be taken lightly when one was at the border going to Lanbridhr. Xanthy figured they would have to go to the desert, fire-sprite territory one way or another so she suggested that they travel here first just to get it out of her list of things to do.

That's how they got stuck in line by the border, going at the pace of an arachilla while being baked evenly under the scorching midday sun.

Sweat beaded on Xanthy's forehead and soaked her back like a waterfall. She tugged at the neckline of her cloak and her tunic. Couldn't she just strip off and jump into the nearest bucket of water? For decency's sake, Xanthy shook her head and tried to forget she was hot. Not that there were buckets of water to jump into the first place.

Their water skins had long ago been sipped dry and fairy potions stash needed to be conserved for emergency situations only. Their versallis stash, once not valued beyond the fact that they could be used to buy some prize goods from the market, were now being used as currency in crossing territories. It had infuriated Xanthy at first but if they wanted to accomplish their goals as quietly as they could, they would have to get accustomed to this system.

It's a wonder Elred was able to bring with her at least a dozen earth sprites who were willing to craft versallis the army can use. There's no verified or universal system for crafting the currency but as far as Xanthy was concerned, as long as the coins were able to let them pass without questions, she's good with it.

"A nice day for a swim, eh?" Rhys snickered from beside Marthiaq. Xanthy had heard so much of this varichria being crafty and wily. She didn't expect him to be so...hearty. As soon as June and Rhys stepped foot out of Penleth, they were able to hit off, trading jokes and quips they thought were smart or funny. Xanthy had lost count of the times she rolled her eyes the past few days.

Truthfully, she was grateful for the distraction and the laughs. She wouldn't have stayed sane without them.

The line moved forward, ever so slowly. The banshee behind Xanthy grumbled something under his breath and crossed his arms. The paulsare beside him brayed, which Xanthy interpreted as impatience.

Xanthy craned her neck past the mass of heads leading up to a booth at the front of the line. What's the cause of delay? It's not like there's something important happening at the other side. It's just a border!

"Patience," Marthiaq muttered under his breath, omitting the use of her name. Xanthy knew why. They couldn't walk around announcing the Virtakios's name. Sure, not many have seen what Xanthy looked like but her name must have spread like wildfire especially after the Heiress and the Sovereign surfaced to take control of the island.

Also, she got why Marthiaq was telling her to be patient out of the blue. He could hear her thoughts being the brownie he was. He had gotten them through multiple situations with just his thyminka abilities. He might not be as good as Airese but he's alright.

Xanthy sighed, careful not to do it too loudly. She wouldn't want to worry June if she didn't want to be fussed over. In fact, Rhys and Marthiaq kept doing their best to separate her and June because of that. Xanthy didn't mind it but, apparently, their companions did.

"I wonder why the line is taking so long," Xanthy crossed her arms and stared at the line of orange sand bleeding from the newly-grown forests of Rabante. She needed some sort of distraction from her own winding thoughts. "We've been here since, like, forever."

Rhys bumped his muscled shoulder against hers. "That's just how lines work, uh...Polly," he scratched the side of his face at the name he gave her. "They're supposed to be keeping us out of the border yet here we are, trying to cross."

Xanthy glared at Rhys. Polly. There's a thousand Pollys in Depandes and it took Xanthy a minute to get the joke. She cleared her throat. "Right, Rolly," she fired back. "I assume you have tons of experience in lines?"

"Very much so, with my friend here, Jolly." Rhys elbowed June who stood beside him. The half-blood gave the varichria a confused look.

Xanthy rolled her eyes. "It's not his name, Rolly," she waved her hands in the arid air around them. "Are you sure you two are friends?"

"Now that's going below the line, Polly," Rhys laid a hand to his chest as if offended. He turned to Marthiaq. "We should ask uh..."

Xanthy chuckled as she watched Rhys's face flash from being caught red-handed to desperately trying to amend the situation. "Let me guess," she jutted her hip to one side. "Molly?"

Rhys's smile was tight. "If you say so."

Marthiaq just shook his head and shoved his fingers into his hair.

The line moved forward as two fairies made it past the gates. Xanthy could almost see the booth beside the fairy-height hole by the wall. It had been more than two hours.

Xanthy ran her hands along the border wall. It seemed immediate how these walls came to stand here. When she went to retrieve the chalice, she had been crossing territories with her companion, Cirasa. No walls have stood in their way, maybe except in Mora but that's a given, considering it's an army base.

But now, just going out of Rabante proved difficult with these walls. Somehow, they found their way to the borders and the people have been acting like they were here since a hundred years ago.

Xanthy's fingers brushed rough, uneven cement. How many days had it taken to construct borders like this? Who built them? Who ordered them built? Xanthy was no expert in the mechanics of civilization but she knew well enough that Cardovia and Synketros needed the money to fund their campaigns.

Where else would they get it? Of course, the borders were an active market, considering how many fairies needed to make a living by crossing them. Merchants, messengers, and even poachers have to do it.

Moreover, by crossing borders they're only making the Sovereign and the Heiress richer. Deviously and amazingly clever.

Xanthy wiped another bout of sweat from her forehead and frowned at the sun. She wiped her hand on the leg of her trousers. "Well, does it get any hotter? I feel like I'm melting."

Marthiaq raised an eyebrow at her. "You'll get used to it. It's a desert. What do you expect?"

It's rare for Marthiaq to speak out of irritation as Xanthy lived long enough with him to conclude. She first met the brownie as a smelly old man in the Disfavoreds and called him Lebayou. Of course, back then, she didn't know it was Marthiaq's family name all along and that the old, checker-playing man was a disguise. In all reality, Marthiaq didn't look like he was older than Xanthy with cropped chestnut brown hair, warm, hazel eyes, and not a speck of wrinkles anywhere on his tan skin.

Marthiaq was a quiet brownie, even after Xanthy met him multiple times after he had ditched the old man disguise. He only spoke when he thought it's required of him. He could also stay silent for so long that Xanthy sometimes forgets he's even there. Marthiaq didn't even have to turn invisible to achieve that effect.

Why was Marthiaq reprimanding her now? Was there something wrong? Xanthy looked around. It might be a code for something, she figured. But, if it was, wouldn't Marthiaq have told her?

"Relax," Marthiaq laid a gentle hand over her arm. "I'm just annoyed at the line. I meant nothing other than that."

Xanthy swallowed against her dry throat, wincing when she felt sand particles scratch against it. Ugh. Her shoulders slumped, making the arm of her bow touch the back of her head once more. "The heat's getting to you as well?" she glanced at him through the glare of the sun. It had been so long since she had talked to Marthiaq, whether he's old man Lebayou or not.

The brownie nodded. So far, in all of Xanthy's adventures with her friends, it was the quiet constancy of Marthiaq she longed for. June and Nyxis were excellent spellcasters but with all the banter and bickering going on, Xanthy wasn't calmed. With Reeca, it's all tension and the mission. With Rhys and with the others, it's awkward. With Cyrdel and Ravalee, it's always lectures about anything, be it gadgets or theories which overwhelm Xanthy.

But with Marthiaq...well, Xanthy could say that it's refreshing. Just the quiet and stability her friend offered without knowing it.

Marthiaq turned to her. "Do you want more water?"

"No need. We're almost there," Xanthy jerked her chin at the line. "Besides, shouldn't you be conserving your own supply? I can get more inside Gligan or once we're in the city proper."

Marthiaq considered it. "It will be a long way from here to Calca. Might as well have a drink now."

Xanthy stuck her bottom lip out. Marthiaq might or might not know it but he was the closest thing she had for a father growing up in the Disfavoreds. She remembered him bringing her food when she wasn't growing anything or when she didn't see Little Bertha's mother for the day. He always sat with the checker grandfathers, guffawing with them as part of his disguise.

Now that Xanthy was acquainted with the real Marthiaq, she understood how hard the brownie had pushed himself just to protect and watch over Xanthy. She would have to repay that debt someday.

Marthiaq passed her his water skin without her even asking for it. She stared at him but he urged her to drink with a nod and a smile. Left with no choice but to honor his wish, Xanthy lifted the skin to her lips and took a sip. The water was bland and burned a trail as it traveled down her throat. She didn't even realize her tongue had been burning inside her mouth.

At the rate things were going, she shouldn't be surprised. Once they got back to Penleth, she was sure Elred wouldn't stop commenting on how dark her skin had become. The shard fairy always had something to say about everyone's appearance. Xanthy exhaled through her nose as quietly as she could, flaring her nostrils when she forced her lungs to suck in the scratchy and thick air.

The line crept forward; the people shuffled like drugged advisers. Xanthy was jostled here and there and Marthiaq stretched a hand to steady her every time someone pushed past the line to run towards the front. Stupid crones. They couldn't even follow a simple law of order.

Sighing, Xanthy let them. Perhaps they're in a hurry. Or perhaps they have a world to save. Xanthy hated to be a cause for delay. She snorted and rolled her eyes at that thought.