Xanthy froze as June hurtled to the ground faster than she wanted him to. Her eyes registered blood. June wasn't flailing like conscious people do when they're falling. The sore spot in her stomach only grew tighter. Something was wrong. She rushed forward, extending her arms to catch June. His body slammed into her, cold. Lifeless.

No...

Xanthy whipped her head from where June fell. All she saw was a spray of white feathers left by one person she knew who wouldn't hesitate to do this. April. Anger boiled in Xanthy's soul. She wouldn't let April get away. She wouldn't—

June coughed weakly, tearing Xanthy from her rage. Tears sprang to her eyes as she realized what April had done to her June. Blood pooled, staining June's tunic dark red and flowing through Xanthy's arms and legs.

"June," Xanthy shook him and got no response. Blood trickled from the corner of his lips. She called his name again. Gone. He's...gone.

Xanthy peered at his trail and saw a tiny flicker. Her eyes widened. It's not too late. Chest tightening and arms heaving, Xanthy hefted June's limp form into her arms and dashed towards the gate. "Clear the way!" she shrieked at anyone who could hear. "Clear the way! Get me Nyxis!"

The gates to the outer quadrant swung open and Xanthy tore through. People who passed her gasped while some rushed with her. Some muttered encouraging words but they all faded in Xanthy's ears. Only one thing mattered. Her breath heaved as her lungs refused to take air. Tears formed a waterfall from her eyes. The infirmary appeared. She was already shouting.

The world turned hazy, blurring at the most important parts. She couldn't...

Someone wrestled June from her. She fell to her knees as they took him away. No. Not him, too.

"Xanthy! Look at me!" someone was calling to her. Who...?

Dark hair. Green eyes that carried urgency. Nyxis. "He's going to be alright, okay?" Nyxis was saying. His words blurred with the rest of Xanthy's vision. He was holding her up on her shoulders. "He's going to be alright."

Xanthy gulped huge lungfuls of air as sobs shook her body. A groaning wail escaped her lips. Not him, too.

"Denara, take care of her," Nyxis turned to somewhere. "Find Eldan or Airese. Get her out of here."

Nyxis let go of Xanthy and she plopped to the ground with no energy running through her muscles. Only her tears flowed from her eyes, wetting the earth until it turned to mud. She didn't know what happened after that. Numb. She's...

"Hey, he'll pull through," Denara strode towards Xanthy and joined her on the bed. When had she been sitting on a bed? Where was she?

"It's alright," Denara put a hand atop Xanthy's and stroked her back in smooth circles with the other. "Nyxis told me he's going to be fine."

Xanthy didn't speak. Her mouth was too dry to do so anyway.

Denara sighed. "It was a tough job but he did well," she said more to herself than to Xanthy. "You should rest."

"No," Xanthy shook her head and stood up. "I need to talk to Reeca...and the others."

Denara followed Xanthy, making the bed's legs creak as she shot up from it. "Come to dinner first, will you? Let's go together."

Xanthy's thoughts churned in dangerous circuits around her head when she nodded, mum.

The chatter during dinner was muted. Xanthy caught enough eyes studying her as she and Denara strode into the open space by the inner quadrant. A vial was thrust into Xanthy's palms just as Denara gripped her wrist and led her to where Reeca, Elred, Geradine, and Airese were seated.

"Nice of you to join us, Xanthy," Reeca scooted to the left to leave room for Xanthy on the bench.

Xanthy sank to the seat and stared at the potion on her hands. Her stomach growled but she couldn't find the energy to down the potion. She didn't feel like doing anything, really. Her thoughts sputtered and lurched through only one line.

If she hadn't been there by the gate where June fell...he would've been dead by now. If she hadn't tackled Airese from the flying island, she would've lost a mother too. If she had only known what Marthiaq was planning, she would have stopped him. He would still be alive today.

This war...it took more than it gave. It's pointless. There's no merit or profit after all this. Apart from her friends and her parents' friends, how many more have been killed or injured beyond repair because of this war?

Too many.

Xanthy had been a fool in thinking that she could win this war when she didn't even know what she was dealing with. None of them were powerful enough to go against the Sovereign or the Heiress much less with two of them combined. This was a losing war from the beginning.

The only trump card they relied on was the Virtakios. Xanthy. What a failure.

"We need to drive to the offensive with the men tomorrow," Reeca was saying. The varichria's legs were crossed. She leaned forward on her elbow before taking a swig from her vial. "We should stick closer and let the marksmen deal with the east and west flanks. The Sovereign had been cautious of that side since Anahel."

Airese's face darkened at the mention of her dead friend. "Yes," the thyminka crossed her arms and turned to Reeca. "Anahel did save us back there. We need a new plan. We can't just go on like this."

"Espionage will surely fail," Elred tapped her chin and brushed her hair off her face. It's as if she hadn't heard her mother's name being referenced like a passing comment. "Sabotage won't work as well. Division could work provided we use enough soldiers but we don't even have that now."

Reeca opened her mouth to answer when Xanthy whispered. "Stop this."

The fairies around her whipped towards her. Xanthy raised her head to meet Reeca's eyes. "We should stop," Xanthy thumbed the cork that stopped the vial on her hands. "We won't win this war."

Reeca's cheeks flushed red. "Say that again and I'll have to run you through like that boyfriend of yours."

The statement punched Xanthy in the gut more than it did with June's wound. She blinked her eyes, preventing the tears from coming. Curses spiralled in her head that made Airese raise her eyebrows at Xanthy. No matter. She needed to be clear-headed when she delivered her point. "We should stop this war, Reeca," Xanthy dug her nails into her palms. "There's enough who have died already."

"This is war, Xanthy. People die all the time," Reeca's expression was flat as if it's an obvious fact that needed not be stated aloud. "Besides, what would you have us do? Surrender?"

Xanthy's stomach twisted further. At the mere notion of the word, cruel images flashed in her mind courtesy of the Arbotro from the Realm of the Lost. Still, that would be better, right? "If we must," Xanthy met Reeca's mismatched eyes. "We can't just throw our soldiers' lives away like this."

"We came this far, Xanthy," Reeca scoffed. "We're not turning back now."

Xanthy shot up, the vial flying out of her hands. "Listen!" she said louder than she intended. The vial landed with a thump on the ground as heads swiveled to their location. Anger bubbled in her gut. "People are dying, Reeca. We're not going anywhere near disabling that flying island nor making a dent in the enemy's armies. We're outnumbered. We're too weak—"

"We're not," Reeca matched Xanthy's stance before glancing at their surroundings with caution. "We have all the forces we need right here. Don't suggest otherwise."

Xanthy followed Reeca's gaze. "You're just saying that to preserve your image," she spat. She waved her hands around the soldiers seated on benches around them. "Look at what we are right now, Reeca. There are people who are not here even though they're with us when we first started. There are hundreds more in the infirmary. Nyxis has been working his ass off trying to get them back into shape. We lost friends. Hell, we even lost Rhys—"

"Don't bring my brother into this," Reeca's hand crept towards the hilt of the sword by her side. "He made his choice as did everyone here. Did you even get what you're asking? Surrendering? Where's the glory in that?"

"Who cares about glory when we're all dead?" Xanthy's voice echoed on the whole quadrant, hushing any trace of chatter. The soldiers were watching her and Reeca now.

Reeca stalked closer and got into Xanthy's face. "No one's surrendering to anyone, get it?" Her voice contained enough acid to burn through a heldita trunk. "We will continue to fight tomorrow and the days after that because we have no other choice. If we die, then we die fighting for what's right. If we die, then so be it."

"Reeca—"

"Don't get in my way tomorrow," Reeca bore her index finger into Xanthy's shoulder.

Xanthy met Reeca's eyes and made sure the spite and the anger shone in hers. "Trust me, I won't."

Reeca shouldered Xanthy on the varichria's way out of the conversation. She didn't look back.

Xanthy's gut swirled with dread and rage. If no one was going to listen to her, then she has to do things on her own.

As it should have been from the start.

Xanthy buried her nose inside her folded hands as she perched on a stool beside June's bed. Her eyes stared at the mess of bandages wrapped around June's gut. When she closed them, the image of him bleeding half to death on her arms flashed against her lids. So, she kept her gaze straight and unblinking.

She wouldn't let this happen to anyone, ever again.

The healers dressed in simple tunics and breeches bustled around her, their pale gray aprons flashing against the domed beige ceiling of the tent made of cloth. Nyxis, even after collapsing yesterday because of extreme fatigue, was now up and running. His scissors made sharp, cutting noises as he snipped pink leaves before depositing them in a boiling cauldron.

Night had fallen upon them. Cold winds blew from the east and shuffled Xanthy's hair off her face and past her shoulders. She tucked her hands beneath her arms and hunkered forward, resting her chin atop June's bedside. The soft mattress sucked at her chin as she heaved off a sigh and closed her eyes.

So many people have gone. So many more were hurting. She needed to stop this but...how?

I can help with that. The Arbotro's voice flashed in her mind just like how Ravalee's used to. That brought another pang in Xanthy's chest. How many more sacrifices must be made for her?

Xanthy looked around and confirmed that she's the only one hearing the voice inside her head. The healers didn't look up from their activities. Nyxis remained with his leaves and cauldron. Xanthy reached inside herself and thought, Yeah?

Why not understand your enemy before you make your move?

Xanthy bit her lip. Didn't you tell me that the Sovereign and the Heiress possess pure magic and they're both stronger than the Virtakios? I can't go head to head with that even if I tried.

That's not the only thing I want you to understand about them. The Arbotro said. I could show you what you're missing from the start.

Which is?

Their pasts. The Arbotro's voice petered off on a pointed edge. Wouldn't you like to know why they're doing this?

Xanthy chewed the inside of her cheeks. Indeed. Why were they doing this? Why go to such lengths to unite the thrones? Were they just noble souls wanting what's best for the island?

A snort resounded at the back of Xanthy's throat. Well, they're certainly doing a good job with that. Not only did they manage to tear the island apart, they were now dooming the fairies by draining the island of its pure magic.

The Arbotro made a nice point, though. It's time Xanthy knew the Sovereign and the Heiress personally. She crossed her arms and leaned back against her stool. Fine, she said. Show me.

Her vision sharpened as the world around her twisted and turned. It melted and got remade again. The tent vanished along with the people around her. June's bed warped into a scenery of trees and the bright blue sky ahead. The moons were nothing but a faint sketch in the horizon. The darkness around the Penleth camp was gone.

Xanthy's consciousness speared down to what's unfolding beneath her. People dressed in armor walked around with their weapons clanking against each other. Still, not one sound reached Xanthy's ears. It's just like the Realm of the Lost all over again.

This is nothing but a memory, the Arbotro said at the back of Xanthy's head. Watch.

So, Xanthy did.

She saw a young Heiress and a young Sovereign from different sides of the world. The Heiress was human. The Sovereign was a storm sprite. Xanthy raised her eyebrows. Oh, that's why the Sovereign could control lightning and rain during the battle in Penleth.

Events flitted through Xanthy's vision, filling in the gaps in her knowledge as to who the Heiress and the Sovereign were before everything. A human boy often stood between them. She saw a boy between them. Beizhen Liros.

Xanthy watched the Heiress, the Sovereign, and the Beizhen become attached to each other. They got along so well that even without the actual words of their conversations, envy even curled at the pit of Xanthy's stomach. The way how it went all wrong with Reeca was what resurfaced in her mind. Would they end up like their enemies in the future?

Years passed through Xanthy's senses as she watched the Heiress and the Sovereign grow older. The war around them worsened. Pressure from both Human and Fairy camps drove the Heiress and the Sovereign against each other's throats.

Then, the end swooped in. Blood was spilled. An oath muttered in childish innocence was broken. Punishment awaited their souls in Pidmena's embrace. Or so they thought.

That's it.

Through the trees, Xanthy narrowed her vision to memorize the youth blinding both the Sovereign and the Heiress' faces as they faced each other one last time in the dark forest. Then, before Xanthy could react, the Heiress' eyes swept past the horizon and locked into Xanthy.

A gasp skittered out of her throat as the Arbotro pulled her from the memory and back into the real world. Xanthy gripped her head and the side of June's bed as her chest worked to catch her breath. Close. That's so close...

Heartbeat pounded against her chest and throbbed inside her ears. Calm down. It's a memory. Only a memory. There's no way the Heiress could have seen her.

She inhaled and blew out a heavy breath, waiting for her vision to still. Her forehead rested against her twined fingers; her elbows dug into her thighs as she glared at the dark, compact soil beneath her boots.

Their motive was to run all along. All this destruction, this...mayhem. All this just so the Heiress and the Sovereign could run. An eerie dread settled in Xanthy's stomach. She's not that different from them, right? Running. It's what the three of them did best.

What made Xanthy different?

She raised her head to find Nyxis glancing at her from stirring his newly-concocted potion. She smiled the best she could and tucked her hair behind her ears. Nothing was wrong with her. He shouldn't worry.

Not when she was planning her last stand. Not when she would have to betray everyone who believed in her just so she could make it happen.

Xanthy raked her gaze back to June's unconscious form. He had never looked so peaceful and tired at the same time. She had never watched him sleep since he always wakes up earlier than her and it sucked that she only got to because he almost died.

She reached out and cupped his cheek. Cold skin pressed against her palm. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes once again. No. She wouldn't cry anymore. Not when she has something important to do.

Her stomach dropped to her feet as she drew away from June and stepped out of the tent. Men and women, fairies and humans, milled about in their business. Trix passed Xanthy by and the mechanic gave Xanthy a small wave before continuing to hammer a nail. Cyrdel barely glanced up from beside the girl and instead pointed at something in Trix's project. The sharp pound of the hammer against the metal drowned out the Alkaran heir's instructions.

Xanthy wove through people, muttering her excuse-me's and nodding whenever some eager soldier greeted or waved at her. The oracle's tent appeared in the distance the moment Xanthy passed through the center quadrant's gates. Greenish light no doubt from the lamp doubling as the oracles' throne shone through the brittle cloth propped up from the ground with metal prods.

The oracle, herself, sat outside the tent on a three-legged stool ripped off from the stocks. Her hood was down, revealing long, scarlet hair reminding Xanthy of blood and aged liquor. Aquamarine eyes followed Xanthy's every movement as she stalked closer to the woman.

Xanthy stopped when the tip of her boots was inches away from the oracle's. "Should I do it?" she asked. Knowing Rutoria, the oracle already knew what Xanthy was talking about and what would happen three days into the future.

A small, sad smile crinkled the sides of Rutoria's eyes as she looked up at Xanthy. "You have a choice," the oracle's hands remained still atop her lap. "We all do."

"Would I succeed?" Xanthy narrowed her eyes and kept her tone in an edge.

Rutoria looked at the faint light shining inside the tent. From beyond, Elred stared at a hand mirror as large as her face. That's no doubt Helinfirth's throne. "In finding the only way out of this? Yes," the oracle answered. "In a lot of other ways, no."

Xanthy's tongue felt heavy inside her mouth. Would she succeed in making her sacrifice too? She wanted to ask but her throat wouldn't form the words. She flinched when a hand wrapped around hers. She looked down to find the oracle clutching her hand like it's the only thing left for them to do.

Rutoria's whisper was almost lost to the crackles of fire licking wood in the hundreds of bonfires scattered in the inner quadrant. "Good luck."

Xanthy squeezed the oracle's hands back. Her voice didn't work quite well when she squeaked, "You too."

Rutoria nodded before retracting her hand where it joined the other one back at her lap. Xanthy turned and made her way back to the infirmary. The moons kept her company during the long walk back.

A new way had presented itself to Xanthy. She could end all of this without having another soul suffer. She started this war; she should finish it. Even if it destroyed some of the ties she had made over the year. Even if it destroyed all of her.

She has a plan and it's time to see it through.

One last time.