2412 Xavem 21, Jyda

June winced as he wrapped the bandage around his throbbing arm. Luck was on his side when he found an abandoned house to crash into before he lost consciousness. He woke up soaked with his own blood to the point where he couldn't salvage his tunic. Well, there goes his other set of clothes. But hey, what were spares for, right? He could still use his old clothes as bandages, which was good.

The memory of what happened at the border was still fresh in his mind. Marin made it rain knives so that she could throw the real one at him. She cast that spell knowing that June would easily deflect it. She cast it so she could drive his focus on the raining knives and not on the real threat she had chucked at him. Smart. Devious. Marin was someone June should be wary of starting now.

June glanced at the wrapped cloth around his shoulder. It's either a very strong throw or a magic-aided one considering how deep the blade lodged at his flesh. He sighed at the dull throbbing in his skin. Wounds like this were just scratches considering all that he had gone through in the past. The beatings he took from the High Queen when they were training were harsher than this. Was that woman really his mother?

A bitter snort sped off his lips as he pushed himself up from the brittle, wooden floor. He glanced at the corner where he had propped Xanthy the day before. She hasn't moved. She looked so dull. Was there even life inside her?

He sighed, sounding more tired than the last time he did so.

June made it to Thenaserine under dire circumstances. Judging from the state of the things here, it seemed that even the Unseelie Court wasn't safe from the Sovereign and the Heiress's prodding. Hundreds of houses were abandoned, torn down, or simply vacated.

June reached a room carrying the resemblance of a dining room and found a half-eaten meal on the table. Mercok, molds, and other insects spawned from hell feasted on it and June was too tired to care. He rummaged around, looking for any edible food but everything was either missing a chunk bitten off by animals or too moldy to be salvaged.

He sighed again and trudged back towards his satchel. He drew his last fairy potion out. Well, he had to survive. Might as well purchase another set in the next town. His stomach swirled with dread as he tipped the small vial into his mouth and swallowed, not even tasting its supposed sweet flavor. He was just tired. Really tired.

He needed to stop running.

How Ironic was it that Xanthy had saved him from running only to have brought him back to this kind of life. He dropped beside Xanthy and stared at her. His back pressed against the cold and dusty wall where the paint had started peeling.

She hadn't changed since he saw her last; her hair had only grown longer. An unholy amount of dirt was smeared across her face and skin. He avoided cleaning it up in fear of her leaping out of her sleep and punching him for touching her. It's a silly fear, anyway. In fact, he wanted Xanthy back to her original temperamental self, to see her alive and kicking people in the shins. What even happened to her? All he knew was how Xanthy felt about him. Or at least, he could tell.

He had betrayed her—there's no denying that. He had seen how hurt she was when she realized that he had been withholding the most important elements of his past from her. She must have felt that he didn't trust her enough to tell her. Well...it's true. He didn't.

It's another one of his silly fears. If Xanthy knew what he was and the things he did, she would resent him. She hasn't harmed anyone apart from self-defense. He killed people because he was ordered to. She wasn't the child of the most incompetent ruler. He was. She hasn't killed anyone's mother. He had.

What if he just told her everything, would things have worked differently? What if he forsook their relationship because of that? Would it be worth it? If June worked up enough nerve to tell Xanthy what he had been really feeling, would fate have worked to their favor?

The truth was he didn't really love Xanthy. No. It's far from that. He had just deluded himself enough to think that he did. The moments they spent together...he tried convincing himself that they were real, that they were as real as he could be.

He saw Xanthy as a way to escape his fate as the one destined to kill the High Queen. If he traded her for his freedom, then he could get rid of the ever-present pain of a curse gripping his heart. It's the High Queen's way of summoning him or disciplining him if he ever attempts to escape. He struck a deal with Nevrin, then. If he was to bring what she wanted most, she would remove the curse coiled around his heart and he would be free.

At least, he thought that's what's going to happen.

Fate really has a bad habit of not letting people go. As soon as he thought that he had done it, that it's really finished, fate just had to sweep his plans off his feet. In truth, guilt still gnawed at his gut whenever his thoughts strayed to how he used Xanthy like that. He had felt so bad that he planned to offer her and her friends a way out. He was prepared to take the risk since the High Queen would have freed him that time and therefore couldn't do anything to him.

Then, he saw Xanthy's face that day.

It was the face that told him she was still trying to believe that he was a good person, that all the moments they shared were real. Even after what he had done, she was trying to find her reasons to love him. It made him sick. He wished that he had never played with her, to begin with. He wished he hadn't ended up on her roof when the High Queen sent him to retrieve the Virtakios, that Xanthy was just a regular brownie to have nothing to do with all of this.

Not a single one of them was granted.

Why was he out here, risking his life and limb—literally—for a girl that shouldn't have anything to do with him? Why? June sighed as he rested his head against the wall. He's here because she saved him. Not just from sure death—which he had been ready for since the beginning—but also from himself. She even sacrificed herself for it.

She didn't even tell him that the price of reviving him was her ending up like this. A small chuckle rocked June's shoulders. Damn, he was lied to. For the first time, he realized that it wasn't a good feeling. Was this how Xanthy felt when she found everything out?

Hmm. Well, now they're even.

What would he do now? What was he supposed to do now? There was no one to tell him, no one to punish him when he failed. He wasn't supposed to please anyone. For once, he was...free.

But at what cost? A half-dead friend and a battered world.

He sighed the fourth time and ran his hands over his face. Promise me you will fight. Xanthy's voice speared across his head like a timed grenade. Fight for what? For her? It's not like he cared about her, to begin with.

Hey, I gave up everything for you and this is how you repay me? Xanthy's voice said again.

June gasped and whirled to Xanthy's sleeping form. He blinked. Did Xanthy just speak to him? Dear Crintine, he must have lost it already. This fast, though? How disappointing. He could have held out longer...

He shook his head. Yeah...how would he repay Xanthy? Even in her misguided feelings, she put everything at stake and revived him. A simple thank-you wouldn't suffice. He had to do something with this life, something worthy of being a message of gratitude to Xanthy. Perhaps he should try to be a farmer? Live an honorable life?

He didn't want to. Not really.

The answer reached the light of day then. He didn't know what he wanted to do with his life anymore. It's like, without Xanthy, he had nowhere to go. He couldn't find his way home without her. He had...no one. What's worse was that his years of following orders made him unable to think for himself. He's just a soldier, just a pawn in this vast game of the world.

Now the only question left was...whose pawn was he? He had that choice now. He had every right to choose now.

He stared at Xanthy again. How in Umazure could she be this beautiful and pure, even when she's half-dead and filthy? What would the world look like if she was up and about? The way she glowed when she encountered things she liked, the way she twists her hair in her fingers when she's nervous or thinking, the way she used to look at him believing that he loved her—all of this flashed into his memory. It sucked to remember those.

When she's not looking and when his chest wasn't hurting from the High Queen's call, he would tell himself that he admired all those things. He became so good at lying that he even convinced himself that what he felt was true. He knew, though, that it's the truth. Even if it wasn't before, it certainly was now.

He had no master. He had the freedom to fall in love and feel things he hadn't before. He was willing to be a better person because of her. He was given the chance to become one because of her. Everything he had right now was because of her. Well, except that mint paste in his satchel. That one was from his own pocket.

Over the past week, he had tried telling himself his lies again. He would fight to protect Xanthy, to give his life for her if needed. This time...for the first time in his life, he was telling the truth.

Perhaps, all he needed was a deep dive into the pool of death for him to realize what was really important. If he was to be anyone's pawn, perhaps, he was supposed to be hers. A small smile spread across June's lips as he sidled closer to Xanthy. "Thank you."

"That's cute," a female voice said by the doorway. For a moment, June thought Xanthy woke up and told him off. But then again, the voice sounded twisted and wrong. The voice continued, "Unfortunately, you won't be alive to continue that sentence."

A knife sailed for his forehead before he knew what was going on.