2412, Diori 31, Daleth

Xanthy gasped after a dream of a whip tearing her form apart. Heart speeding, she gathered her knees to her chest and inhaled. The cracking whip never did fade from her ears. She gulped a lungful of air. One. Two. A shiver came and went from her arms. Where was she?

Moreover, why was she alive?

Soft blankets were spooled over her feet. Her body slightly bounced at the mere softness of the cushion she was laid in. She's wearing...

A small gasp escaped from her lips as she realized she was dressed in a loose linen smock. She had no idea how she got in these clothes so someone must have put it on for her. If they did...

Bile rose to her throat at the mere thought of people seeing her form. Especially after what the Heiress and the Sovereign did to her. Xanthy clutched her head as recent memories flashed into her mind in a dizzying torrent. She was...dead and yet not. Was this the Land of Wonders? Where was Pidmena? Shouldn't there be some sort of welcome committee or something?

She needed answers.

The bed she was in was inside a room. A lavish one at that. Rugs with swirling embroidered patterns coated the floor. The large windows had floor-length, dark, velvet curtains drawn to block off the sunlight. Closets, drawers, and a vanity were pressed against each wall. The paint was peeling; the ceiling was cracked, but surprisingly, held.

Xanthy raised her eyes to the canopy of her bed and her heart skipped. This was a bed she imagined rich people had. Now, she's lying on one.

She spied a door to her right. She threw off the blankets tucked over her legs and gasped. Bandages were wrapped around her limbs, covering the wounds she received from the Sovereign and the Heiress. Her arms and most of her body were in a similar state.

Her hands slowly went to her face. There were patches of dressing stuck to it. Then, with a heavy heart, she touched her hair. As expected, it was nothing but a stump at the back of her neck. Ravalee...

Her breath came away shaky when she blew it out. She should have died in Parkane. Why was she alive?

The Arbotro. If anyone could give her an answer, it's the Tree of Breaths.

Xanthy closed her eyes and called the Arbotro's presence in her mind. There was not a single trace of it. Her eyes widened.

"I'm right here," a voice said.

Xanthy yelped and drew the blanket to her chin. Her gaze slowly settled on an ethereal figure seated at the foot of the bed. This time, it had a face. It reflected Xanthy's own, reminding her of how it once was with Ravalee. Except this doppelganger mirrored even her injuries.

Xanthy swallowed bile at the back of her throat. "Why am I not dead?" she asked. "Why are you here?"

The Arbotro coughed into its fist before giving Xanthy a sad smile. "I am but a remnant of the Arbotro's hold on this island," its voice was neither masculine nor feminine like how it was on the Realm of the Lost. "You're not dead because I chose to revive you."

"Revive..."

"You died, Xanthy," the Arbotro smoothed the quilt as it ran its hand over it. "But I chose to bring you back to life."

Xanthy's chest tightened. "But the taboo spells," she muttered. "The price will be too high."

Then, it dawned on her. She leaned forward. "You mentioned that you're the last remnant. Is the Arbotro gone?"

The translucent figure nodded its hypothetical head bearing Xanthy's face. "Just like the chalice. A life for a life. A soul for a soul."

"But why?" Xanthy winced as she moved her shoulder the wrong way. "What will happen to the island?"

"Umazure is fine. It's still standing albeit without a little bit of protection," the Arbotro waved its hand as it looked around. "That's where you come in. When I revived you, not only did you escape the Land of Wonders, you retained a part of me that will keep this island safe. That's part of the consequences, I guess."

The Arbotro locked eyes with Xanthy. It's an uncanny resemblance of her hazelnut brown irises. "Now, apart from the Virtakios, you must learn how to harness that magic so that you can be ready for the coming war."

"Whoa, whoa!" Xanthy held her palms up. "I just survived a war. Don't go telling me there will be another!"

The Arbotro smiled. Xanthy never realized that's what she looked like when she's smiling. "It's just how things go," it said. "Besides, the world could use lesser Arbotrois in this day and age."

Xanthy knitted her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"I told you. I foresaw my own death," the Arbotro rolled its shoulders. It didn't appear to be in pain compared to when Xanthy did the same action. "As you well know, there's no use in running."

Xanthy hung her head. The sheets apparently had the same embroidered pattern as the rugs. Strange. "Yeah, I know," she tucked her hands to herself. "So what happens now?"

The Arbotro wrinkled its nose. "Go out there and unite the island. It's the only thing you could do if you want to survive the coming war. I've given you the power to do that. The Virtakios's sole purpose is to bring things together, to fix the world to be better."

"A savior, you mean," Xanthy narrowed her eyes. Then, she shook her head and gestured to herself. "I'm not cut out for that. Look at me. I'm broken."

The Arbotro reached out and laid a hand atop Xanthy's. There was no warmth to it against her skin. "The scars make us who we are," the Arbotro said. "Embrace it. Learn from it. Scars make us stronger. And you, Xanthy, are the strongest fairy I know."

Tears stung Xanthy's eyes. "Don't go," she whispered. "I don't know how to do this."

The Arbotro withdrew its touch. The sudden absence drove dread to Xanthy's gut. "All things go, Xanthy," it said. "It's only a matter of when."

A breeze swept into the room and wiped the last of the Arbotro from her sight. Xanthy's heart grew heavy. A world without Arbotrois...what would that look like?

From Xanthy's right, the door to her room opened.

Nyxis stepped through, wearing what looked like a noble's outfit complete with a half-coat atop his normal plain tunic. His dark boots tramped across the room in a series of light thumps on the carpeted floor. His eyes widened when he saw Xanthy sitting up.

He couldn't have run faster in all his life. Xanthy squeaked as her friend threw his arms around her shoulders in an embrace. "Hey, ease up," Xanthy chuckled. She held Nyxis's shoulders at arm length. His emerald eyes had never looked so gem-like than it did now. "I'm still healing."

Nyxis exhaled in what sounded like relief and hung his head. When he raised his face again, Xanthy spied a sliver of tears at the corner of his eyes. "I know," his voice cracked but he cleared his throat. "How are you feeling?"

"Alive?" Xanthy shrugged, the bandages on her shoulder nipping at her joints. "What happened after...you know."

"Oh," Nyxis blinked. He gulped as his eyebrows knitted with uncertainty. "You want to know about that immediately, huh?"

Xanthy nodded. Nyxis closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. "What happened was...quite hard to process," he massaged his temples in a circular motion. "We ended up in Parkane after being connected to the thrones. We were supposed to fight the Guardians of each gate but you, uh...beat us there first."

"So we tried to stop you but then we saw that the Heiress had you under her control," Nyxis scratched the back of his ear. "Then, uh, I'm sure you remember Nelnifa..."

Xanthy pursed her lips and laid a hand atop her friend's in the space between them. "I remember," she said softly. "What happened after I jumped into the Tree?"

"That's...even harder to process, much less, recount," his eyebrows met. "After you, the Heiress, and the Sovereign disappeared into the Tree, the world shook. I'm sure I heard a scream or two. The stars started falling...or at least it looked like it. The wind blew with anger that I never thought I'd feel in all my remaining years."

"And uh," Nyxis closed his eyes, lost in his memory. "The Arbotro folded in on itself. It wilted and crumbled to dust. I think Jonadrin cried at that but I'm not too sure."

Xanthy smiled at the mention of the nature fairy. Nyxis crossed his arms as he rocked back and forth. "After that, the entire cavern collapsed on top of us. You know...the rocks, the stars, the moat. We weren't even by the shore. The next thing I knew was that we're back at the Heiress's camp at Penleth. You were there..."

Nyxis winced. Xanthy averted her eyes and drew her knees to her chest. "I know," she whispered. "I probably looked bad."

"You were dead, Xanthy," Nyxis's voice hitched. "Your trail was dim."

Xanthy chuckled without humor. "Yeah, so I'm told," she scratched at the inside of her palms. "And then what? I was magically revived?"

"You could say that, yeah."

Xanthy blew a breath and rested her head on her knees. She hugged herself tighter. "How did June take it?"

"He went crazy, of course," Nyxis folded his hands together and squeezed. "I had to sedate him to keep him from coming in here."

Xanthy raised an eyebrow. "Why can't he come?"

"You weren't exactly stable even when your trail wondrously lit up," Nyxis tousled his hair. "Of course, there's still the matter of your wounds..."

Xanthy had retreated inside herself.

"Hey," Nyxis said softly. He touched Xanthy's arm, making her raise her head up. His hand found her cheek as he tucked a loose strand of short khaki hair behind her ears. Xanthy used to blush whenever Nyxis did this to her but now all she felt was brotherly affection. How times have changed, right? "It's okay, Xanthy," Nyxis was saying.

Xanthy shook her head. "No. I look hideous now. I'm—"

"Still Xanthy," Nyxis finished. "Scars don't define us. Believe me when I tell you that."

Xanthy drew her eyes towards Nyxis's faint scar running across his face. "So, you're not perfect anymore."

"I am never perfect, Xanthy," Nyxis's eyes softened at the sides.. "And I don't intend to be."

Xanthy sighed. "Anything more you'd like to tell me?" she glanced at the furnishings around her. "How in the world did I end up in this room? Where are we?"

Nyxis bit his lip as he looked up at the canopied bed. "We're at the Imperial Palace, or at least what's left of it. Lanteglos..." he trailed off as if he's reciting facts by memory. "The Seelie Court had to drag us all here as soon as the Heiress and the Sovereign vanished. They were dying to know what happened."

"What of the armies?"

Nyxis frowned. "Are you sure you want to hear about that now?"

Xanthy nodded, mum.

Nyxis pursed his lips. "As soon as we got back to Penleth without the Sovereign and the Heiress, everyone already knew what went on. I doubt there's no one on this island who had no assumption on what happened in Parkane. Soldiers from Penleth rose up and demanded surrender from the Heiress and the Sovereign's ranks. We're holding them in Nanvera until the Seelie Court decides what to do with them."

A stone dropped in Xanthy's gut. "How long was I gone?"

"It's the thirty-first today," Nyxis splayed his fingers in front of him and counted. "So...five days?"

Xanthy blew a shaky breath. "I see. I should go out and catch up."

"Do you need any help?" Nyxis asked.

Xanthy whipped to him and knitted her eyebrows. "Why would I?"

This was ridiculous. What was Nyxis implying? Her friend looked at his boots with his mouth turned down. There's more Nyxis wasn't telling her.

"Denara helped me treat your injuries," Nyxis said after a minute of silence. "We argued about a lot of things but this is the first time we agreed on something," he met Xanthy's gaze. "The Heiress has hit the bones in your leg. Badly. We...couldn't heal it completely."

Xanthy looked down at the blanket. Tears sprung to her eyes without her permission. This was cruel. Too cruel. "You still have enough control on your leg but you'd need a cane to be able to walk properly. Try not to lean on it too much, too," Nyxis's expression softened when he noticed Xanthy's silent tears. "I'm sorry, Xanthy."

Xanthy sniffled as she ran the back of her hand against her eyes. "It's okay," she blubbered. Her voice already sounded thick. "It's going to be okay."

Then, something inside her snapped and tears broke free in uncontrollable currents. Nyxis was there, cradling her head against his chest. He didn't seem to care as Xanthy's tears stained his clothes. They stayed that way for a long time until Xanthy stopped shaking. Just like how it was some months ago.

"I'm sorry about that," Xanthy muttered at the wet stains on Nyxis's tunic as she drew away from him.

Nyxis glanced at it. "A small price to pay," he turned back to her. "I'm so sorry things had to be whatever this is for you."

"I'm sorry, too," Xanthy sniffed again. "But it is what it is."

Nyxis nodded and stood up. He was heading towards the door when Xanthy mustered enough courage. "Hey Nyxis?" she called.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

Nyxis averted his eyes as he cleared his throat. "It's forever my pleasure, Xanthy," he turned back to her with a smile. "Are you going out?"

"Yeah," she returned his gesture and extended an arm towards him. "Can you help me?"