Reeca trudged past the fortress' gates, ignoring the murmurs following in her wake. Her boots clacked dully against the dark, compact soil; her sword slapped the side of her thigh whenever she took a step. She kept her face neutral but deep inside, anger roiled in her chest, tearing at her muscles and devouring every sense.

She passed the outer quadrant, one of the first walls after the barrier. It was built by the crafty earth sprites Elred had brought to Penleth. Syl, the air sprite, manned the gates on his own. His other team members were out in the air, scouting for any sign of aerial assault.

Reeca gave Syl a curt nod. He touched the gate with his hand and opened it ever so slightly, enough for Reeca to squeeze through. Exhaustion marred her arms and legs but she continued walking.

Over the past six days, it had been nothing but cannons aiming to bomb down the barrier. Both land and air scouts haven't reported any sign of foot soldiers from the enemy camp nor had they wandered near the base of the barrier.

However, a few distance from Penleth, right at the lip of the border between Diven and Rabante, the scouts have reported the presence of a wall stretching far and wide and filled with artillery at every inch. Those weapons had been the ones running them down without mercy since the siege started six days ago.

Reeca exhaled, not bothering to keep it dainty, startling a few soldiers sitting idly in their tents as she passed. The gates to the inner quadrant loomed closer. She had come out here just to inspect the damage on the barrier and get Trix, their resident mechanic, to work on it tonight.

The barrier had been Reeca and Cyrdel's design. During the months of preparation, she and the brownie had knocked their heads together and developed a way to buy themselves a bit more time while they executed what they had really been here for.

It turned out Cyrdel had been studying the barriers closing around Umazure for so long he could recite all the elements he found on it during his years of extensive research. Why he was even researching the barriers was something Reeca didn't have the time nor the energy to prod into.

Still, Cyrdel had this bright idea to recreate the barrier and cast it around the fortress. Soon, their nights had been spent inside one of the tents in the center quadrant, devising and developing until finally, they had the perfect prototype.

That prototype had been the one in use since the first blasts of artillery rang during the first day of the siege. Trix, a brownie from the underground cities, took charge of maintenance after Cyrdel left with Xanthy in whatever it was the Virtakios was planning.

Reeca nodded at Dreak, a pixie manning the gates to the inner quadrant. The pixie stared at her with his passive, narrow eyes and touched the gates as well. The tall, wooden gates swung inward. Reeca squeezed through the small gap and pulled her wings out of the way before it got caught between the gap.

The inner quadrant wasn't a pretty sight to look at. The outer quadrant housed the weapons, the supplies, and some of the living tents. The inner quadrant contained the sick bay where all the wounded, the sick, and the dead were piled together.

Tents as large as graspelis stood in a neat arrangement around the quadrant as far as Reeca could see. After the gates, there were two ways to go—left or right. Whichever she took would reveal the same thing and inflict the same emotions in her chest.

She picked the right one and made sure her footsteps were as stealthy as she could. It's rude to disturb sleeping people especially if they're healing. She passed a large, open tent, containing at least two dozen beds. At least half were filled with fairies she had sent to scout the enemy fortress a few days ago. The healers didn't know what hit them but it seemed they weren't healing from the various wounds and fractures they suffered.

It was brutal. Reeca spent hours in the washroom telling herself it wasn't her fault. This war wasn't anyone's fault but their enemies'. They were all brought in here through an unfortunate turn of events.

Besides, everyone was present because they knew what they're fighting for. They volunteered knowing full well that this was war and there would always be no hard assurance they would live to see the end.

People die all the time as Reeca reasoned mostly to herself. It's not her fault.

She cast another look at the tents and admitted that she sometimes looked for Nyxis among the ranks of healers the human had trained himself. That human might have been thoroughly obsessed with his face but at least he had been the one she talked to after...what happened to Narfalk.

It had happened unexpectedly. Reeca had been looking for a cure to her nightly wing pains and Nyxis took one look at her and asked her what's wrong. Of course, she would never admit that there was something wrong with her; asking for the pain relief medication was hard enough.

But then, the human brought up the Ice Capital event and pointed out that Reeca hadn't been exactly herself during that time. That had triggered it. She wanted to get angry at him for poking in on her business. She wanted to just walk away. She didn't.

Later, they ended up talking about what happened with Reeca spilling everything like she never did before. She didn't shed a tear but the amount of times she blinked her eyes could have powered the barrier a hundred days more.

Nyxis had been there, listening as he pounded some sort of red seeds to dust. He didn't say anything as she talked; his only reactions surmised raises of the eyebrows and nods.

When she finished, Nyxis smiled at her without judgment, passed her a jar of medicine from one of his makeshift shelves, and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Choices," he said with a gentle voice that struck Reeca even after days of having heard it. "Those are all we have."

Reeca had come out of the tent that night lighter and somehow...braver. Here she was, believing all her life that being mysterious and strong holds power. The less people who knew about her, the stronger she was to them. Now, she realized being vulnerable required the most amount of courage a person could ever have in their entire life.

A sigh escaped her lips as the healers' tent sped by her so quickly as it had come. The gate to the center quadrant loomed closer every step she took. Beyond those gates was the core of this fortress—the command center.

Reeca locked eyes with Frylka, a half-blood with strange, multicolored eyes, manning the gates to the center. The half-blood snapped to attention and pressed her hand on the gate. It gave a gentle hum as it slid open into a slit where Reeca could slip through.

Inside the center were their tents, more supplies, and most of the weaponry that Reeca, Elred, and Geradine had been developing. These were not yet ready for the battlefield but most were nearly there. Just needed a few more tweaks. Maybe tonight.

Reeca quickened her pace, each step turning more purposeful than the last. She aimed for the command tent where most team meetings and briefings were being held. It was a triangular tent with one opening flap, stuck to the ground with the usual metal-cased wooden pegs.

If push comes to shove, Cyrdel designed the pegs to be used as a weapon for defense. If anything, Reeca liked how a supposed-to-be-peaceful brownie such as Cyrdel could think like that. Ingenious. She yanked the tent flap open and stepped inside. Two fairies were poring over an interactive map, courtesy of Cyrdel and Reeca, laid out on the table illuminated by a light source resembling a stick, courtesy of Canelis and another pixie called Dithas.

"Any news?" Reeca unbuckled her dusty cloak and tossed it aside.

Geradine, the ice sprite, flinched as Reeca's cloak made a muffled scratch against the sack of folded cloth. She raked her eyes towards where Reeca came from. "Oh, Reeca, nice timing," she said, unaware that Reeca had just asked a question. "What's the situation outside?"

Elred, the shard fairy, looked away from the map and bent low in an effort to tie her pale blond hair up. Of course, the long strands would eventually escape their bounds and scatter on her face after a few hours. Reeca had suggested cutting it but the shard fairy dismissed it and would never speak of it again.

Geradine winked at Reeca then, claiming that Savel, Elred's husband, liked it long. Reeca stared at the ice sprite like she just said the sea was made of piss. Geradine laughed and patted Reeca's head. "Oh, to be young," the older sprite had cooed. "You'll get there, honey. You'll get there."

It's been five days and Reeca still hasn't got what Geradine meant by that. Nor had she the time to mull about it.

"Reeca?" Elred said, her tone bringing Reeca back to the present. The shard fairy's hair was already tied in a hasty bun secured by a metal pin. "Situation outside?"

Reeca sighed and locked her legs together. "Everything's good," she reported. "Aside from the damages from the cannons firing at us all day, no one is hurt. Our scouts all returned and are accounted for. I already sent Trix to the barrier for maintenance."

"At least some good news," Geradine exhaled and ran her hands across her face. She looked tired.

Reeca approached the bright table and stared at the map. "Any progress from the others?"

"Xanthy was last seen in Avalora some time ago," Elred tapped a vague location on the map showing the whole island. "Nyxis and the others were last seen wandering around Lanteglos."

Reeca knitted her eyebrows. "Why would any of them end up there?"

Geradine shrugged. "Beats me," she said in a resigned tone. "Has Xanthy told you anything?"

Reeca shook her head. The conversations she and the Virtakios ever had over the past few months could be counted with fingers. It was another normal day when Xanthy marched up to Reeca and said, "I have a plan."

Then, Xanthy left them all in the dark with that plan of hers and insisted on doing a cross-island adventure to gather the "pieces". Reeca had merely shaken her head and let Xanthy do her thing. It's not like the brownie would stay put if Reeca refused.

If she was anything else other than the Virtakios, she's certainly the most dagrine-headed person Reeca had ever known. If a dagrine ever had feelings and acted on them, then yes. Xanthy was a dagrine.

It wasn't that Reeca blamed Xanthy's lack of a proper education but sometimes, she wished that Xanthy would think with logic. Just a little. Especially at this time. Whatever she's planning, Reeca wasn't assured it would bring good, much less, an advantage to their cause.

Still, the people around her were all willing to give her a chance. She's the Virtakios after all. People treat her like a miracle worker. Secretly, they all believed each and every one of Xanthy's actions were connected to that blasted prophecy and would save the island with certainty.

Reeca believed the opposite. Xanthy was no miracle worker. She was a fairy who hadn't experienced the bite of the real world until this year. If anything, Reeca would label Xanthy as unprepared, unprofessional, and certainly unequipped to lead in this coming war. If left unsupervised, she could very well be their downfall.

"Umazure to Reeca?" Elred called.

Reeca blinked. She had spaced out again. "Huh?" she shook her head. "O-oh, she didn't tell me anything."

"We could only hope now," Geradine jerked her chin at Reeca. "What's the plan for tomorrow?"

"How's our supplies?" Elred asked no one. "That should direct our move for tomorrow. Thank the gods those bloody firefarts stop firing at night. Otherwise, we would've been wiped out for lack of sleep already."

Reeca winced. Against everyone's plea, Elred kept calling the cannons "firefarts" which elicited quite a few laughs from the younger fairies in the camp but proved a bit distasteful for the older fairies around.

"Shall I round up the scouts and do a briefing?" Reeca rested her hand on the pommel of her new sword. She couldn't even remember where her past swords had been. This one, however, was crafted by Cyrdel specific to her requests. It would be a shame if she lost this. "We could look for potential weak points on the wall and target that. Our first priority should be to take those cannons down."

"Firefarts," Elred corrected.

Geradine clicked her tongue. Elred had once sniped at the ice sprite that she was "ancient" which Reeca feared would cause internal conflict. Thankfully, the older ice sprite was mature enough to handle the ribbing. "Either way," Geradine picked at her nails, cursing at the state she found them in. "We should be able to make it to the next day, don't you think?"

"I suppose so," Reeca nodded and turned to the tent's exit. "I should go."

The two fairies didn't speak further. Both went back to looking at the map. Elred rummaged around the parchments tossed into another bright table and brought one to Geradine. They muttered under their breaths, conversing only to run ideas to each other before drifting into their separate trains of thoughts.

Reeca pursed her lips and stepped out. Not enough. What they're doing was not enough. She raised her eyes to the sky. Crozal and Leranna were the only moons out tonight and they watched as Reeca walked towards a specific tent—the one which housed their hidden trump.

The last oracle.