The wind howled in Xanthy's ears but for the first time, she didn't feel the cold. She hugged herself and no warmth flowed to her body. It's like she's just there, neither hot nor cold. "You mentioned that we are in the Realm of the Lost," Xanthy tried her best to silence the howling voices speaking of regret and melancholy. She had failed for the past attempt. "What is this place?"

The being waved its hand. Some of the voices died down like they were slapped aside. "This is a place of retribution where lost souls that couldn't find their way to the afterlife go."

Xanthy scratched her neck even though her skin didn't feel anything. "So, if a person doesn't get buried or blessed when they die, they end up here?"

The being nodded. "That is why those chants and songs haven't faded from your traditions. You'd do best to also bury and bless corpses you come across."

Xanthy hung her head. She had witnessed death since she left the Disfavoreds and among them, only Jarvik had the proper blessing ritual. Another thing she had failed in fulfilling. "What about those who dissolve into fragments?" Xanthy tapped chin, recalling the brownies and the pixies who had turned into clay and embers.

"Then that is what the Temples are for," the being said. "The dead should be honored in those places. The state of the remains they leave behind affects the souls' journeys to the afterlife."

Xanthy looked around. Among all the voices she had heard, which of these souls belonged to the people who died because of her, directly or not?

The being spoke before any of Xanthy's thoughts went deeper. "Souls that have unresolved regret, anger, guilt, and shame also end up here. They have little chance of ever getting out."

"Why?"

"Because they want to go back to life to fix what they left behind," the being turned its light left. The voices gave weak squeals as they sped away from the rays like it burned them. "Unfortunately, no one can bring someone back to life."

Of course. Xanthy knew that full well. Everyone on the island knew that full well. "Not even with all the magic available?"

The being faced Xanthy once again. "That is one of the forbidden spells. Along with the extraction of legacy, soul manipulation, and time travel, the resurrection of the dead is not at all impossible but it simply exacts unbearable consequences."

Xanthy's eyes widened. Erin and the Heiress were all willing to go through the heavy burden of that spell just to get what they want? Well, at least the Sovereign was the only one sane enough to never want Xanthy's legacy. "So these people," Xanthy looked around even though her eyes only registered the endless darkness. "They will never be able to go to the afterlife?"

"Yes."

"And me?" Xanthy inclined her head to one side. "Why am I here when I'm not dead?"

The being touched what was supposed to be her chin. "The victims of the chalice are a special case," it said. "I guess you are lost in your own right since you're neither alive nor dead. Your form lies somewhere in the living realm yet the rest of your soul is here."

"Wait," Xanthy held her palm up. "Wouldn't my form crumble if the rest of the soul is away? Why would you say that my form is somewhere out there?"

"Who said this world is apart from Fantasilia?'' the being's voice carried some hint of amusement. "For all you know, we could be beside your form all along."

"But I was drifting for a long time!" Xanthy waved her hands in the air. It took her a little while to realize that she was glowing in a fainter sheen of white light compared to the being in front of her. "I was moving!"

The being folded its hands atop its mass of ethereal robes. "You are nowhere," it said. "In here, you are no one and time is detached in this space. It's the space between Fantasilia and the World Beyond. It's what bridges these two worlds together, keeping the created and the creator close. This is the closest anyone can step towards the World Beyond."

"So how did you find me here?"

"I can feel all the souls I have gifted the island," the being answered. "I am still connected to you. I can access this place because there are many souls trapped here that are connected to me. So why not build me a lovely home here and chill?"

Xanthy blinked. Chill...? Oh, that's why it's cold.

A sigh tore out of Xanthy's lips. There's no point in dwelling in those thoughts, right? "Have you tried going to the World Beyond?"

The being gasped. It put a hand on its chest as if mildly offended at the whole notion. "What made you think that I would dare try that?"

"I mean, you have the power to cross realms," Xanthy scratched the end of her eyebrow. "Surely you have the power to cross over to the World Beyond. Well, did you?"

"No," the being said. Its tone was as flat as a board. "It's too dangerous. It will put the entire island in peril and can have some effect on the network I keep with the other Arbotrois."

Xanthy's heart twinged with guilt and shame at that. Here she was, gifted with the most powerful power on the island with the simple duty of helping people yet she ran and thought that the world would be better without her. Then there was the Arbotro, choosing to protect the island over its own happiness and curiosity. It made her appear like a foolish child.

"Don't you ever get greedy?" Xanthy reached up and twisted a lock of hair around her finger. "Don't you ever want to run from your duties and just think about yourself?"

If the being had a face, it probably smiled. "That is the ultimate question, isn't it?" Its voice was playful yet carried enough sincerity in it. "I'm not a god nor am I perfect. I admit that sometimes I feel like throwing everything away and enjoying my power for once. I was tempted from time to time to fight my destiny and my duty. Whenever I feel like that, I tell myself one thing."

"And that is?"

"To stop looking at our fate-given duty as a burden or a noble pursuit," the being said. "I tell myself that it is only my duty and that it must not define every part of me. I am an Arbotro and I control and protect many things, but I am not just an Arbotro. I am a friend to my peers, a sister to some of them. I enjoy doing other things apart from my power."

Xanthy frowned. "You convince yourself that your duty is not wholly who you are?"

"It makes me realize what I am fighting for," the being ran a hand over its head, making its light shine a bit brighter. "If I ever want to quit, I ask if I will be able to do the things I want to do without guilt, shame, or regret. Will I be better than a lost soul if I chose to run?"

Xanthy's stomach churned. Was she feeling those things now? The being spoke before Xanthy could ever make sure of it. "The World Beyond is not just some created world that we can cross anytime we will. Its magic is foreign to us just as our magic to them. Crossing over will also be pointless since their magic is stronger than ours."

"Will we die if we cross over?" Xanthy asked, remembering what Elred told her back in the textile region in the Commons. "Why has no one who crossed worlds ever made it back?"

"Oh, they made it back eventually," the being bobbed its head. Mild amusement crept to its tone. "Fantasilia sucks them back like a vacuum cleaner. It simply costs too much to attempt to travel back. Mostly, whatever comes back was just a pile of bones too, so..."

Xanthy's face crumpled as she struggled to process the Arbotro's words. "What's a vacuum cleaner?" It sounded weird as it rolled off her tongue too.

The being snorted. "I have no idea as well," it rolled its wrist in the air as if searching for a perfect word in its vocabulary. "I just...know of it. That's weird, right?"

"Uh," was all Xanthy offered when the being added a little too happily, "Also, I don't think those bones can attempt to cross over again, right? So that's the least of my problems!"

A thin smile crept out of Xanthy's lips but inside, her thoughts raged in a current she couldn't quite track. Crossing worlds and being pulled back. They really couldn't escape.

The blue ceiling greeted him as his eyes snapped open. His last memory was that of the ocean, the waves slamming him anywhere it wished. A voice screamed his name. Then a song. He was certain there was a song involved.

He tried sitting up again and a hand pushed him back down gently. His eyes cleared just enough to recognize the girl, looming above him with a deep frown on her face. Was she watching him sleep? "I figured that if I left you on your own, you would find a way to kill yourself again," the girl explained as if sensing his thoughts. "How are you feeling?"

Nyxis opened his mouth to answer but the girl plunged on. "Why do you insist on putting your life in danger? You are causing me the trouble of having to save you again and again! It is tiring, you know?"

He turned his face away. "Then you should have just let me drown," his voice was hoarse and sounded foreign to his ears. To be saved yet again...it's more than humiliating. He felt like a child caught stealing candy from the pantry.

"I could not do that," she crossed her arms. "If there is a life to be saved, then I will save it."

"What a nice philosophy to have," he scoffed. "You are the one who told me to get out of your cave. So I did."

The girl harrumphed. "I said, after you have healed, not when you are still healing!" she slapped her forehead with her palm. "You simply do not value your life. Why?"

"Because I failed, okay?" Nyxis said. Despite the nausea threatening to make him hurl, he pushed himself off his lying position to face the girl fully. "I failed at the one thing I am supposed to do. I do not deserve to live after that."

"Why?" the girl shook her head, almost as if because of disbelief. "What is this mission that you wanted to accomplish so much?"

Nyxis pursed his lips, the memory searing his mind once more. No matter what angle he looked at it, he'd arrive at the same answer. He failed. He wasn't as good at accomplishing it as he thought. He's weak. He's... "It does not matter," he shook his head. "I failed. That is it."

"It matters," the girl said gently but with enough authority to make her look like she knew what she's talking about. "Because you need to come to terms with your regrets if you are to heal completely."

A bitter laugh hitched on Nyxis's scratched throat. Heal. It's as if—

"Come on," the girl extended her hand towards him, all open and warm. He hated it. "Just tell me why you think you failed."

He slapped her hand away. "Because I am nothing but a broken, pathetic boy," he rasped. "Stop trying to help a lost cause like me. Stop trying to act like you care about me when the truth is you do not."

The girl took a silent step back, her face a mixture of disbelief and shock. Nyxis pushed further. "No one cares about someone unless they need something in return," he jabbed a finger against the rock he sat on. "You told me that it is a shame that you could not get outside news because I cannot remember a thing. There, I failed you already. You do not need me."

He clutched his head in his hands. "So why...why do you care about my life so much?"

The girl yanked his wrists apart with such strength that made Nyxis look up at her in surprise. Her face was flushed as her eyes burned. "You want to know a fate worse than death?" she said through her gnashed teeth. "It is to survive long enough to see the world around you change without even remembering you. It is to watch people who could not accept their fate try and try to find another place in the world that moved on without them. It is to stand there, seeing them throw away something precious just because they couldn't stand by themselves."

"I want to help you. I want to let you live because I could not bear to see another life lost because of a lack of hope," the girl drew back and observed Nyxis from afar. That gaze...he hated to be anywhere near it. "You will heal. You will get out of this cave alive. You will live on."

Nyxis's breath quivered. "I am not one of your charity cases. I do not intend to be. I do not need your help and I will deal with my life as I see fit."

"You are not a broken boy," the girl said. "You have a soiled pride up to the point that you choose to run instead of facing it. For you, death is the quickest escape. You are not broken. You are a coward who could not live up to your mistakes."

"Stop it," Nyxis croaked. The girl's words slammed repeatedly into his mind, stabbing down to his heart with deadly accuracy.

"You are just an ungrateful brat who thinks he has a place in this world when you do not," the girl prodded. "That's what makes you pathetic."

"STOP!" he screamed. He doubled over as coughs racked his body. His own blood stained the rock red. None of it was true, right? His choice wasn't avoidance. It's rightful. It's honorable. He failed so he should perish. "How can you even be sure? You do not know me."

Hurt flickered all over the girl's face—something Nyxis couldn't quite understand. "I know you more than anyone, Ceris."

That...that name again. Nyxis knew it. "I am not Ceris!" Nyxis yelled much harder than he intended to. His voice bounced along the walls, echoing into the darkest parts of the cavern. He steadied himself with his arm and clamped his hand to his mouth. He hunched over as coughs racked his body again.

Red stained his fingers as they came away from his face. Forget it. Forget everything. He looked at the girl with as much anger as he could gather. "That is it, right?" he said. "You saved me because you thought I was Ceris Helgase. I am not. Sorry about that. Let go of that fantasy you have in your head."

The girl pursed her lips. "Don't make me regret saving you."

Nyxis looked into her eyes right then and there. "You never saved me," he said. "You just made my suffering longer."

Her lips parted as her eyes misted over. She's not going to cry, was she? Nyxis never got his answer as she turned away and vanished past the curtain in a series of long strides. Silence choked Nyxis more than his coughs ever did. He laid back down and curled into a ball with only one thought repeating in his head.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be.