SIXTH BOOK OF THE CHRONICLES OF FANTASILIA SERIES
𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥. 𝘕𝘰𝘸, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴.
Xanthiene Vivenca has to find allies and legendary objects of po...
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2412, Diori 04, Velpa
Rhys sniffed only to sneeze again. He rubbed his nose with his forefinger as he looked at the mass of thorny succulents littering the desert landscape. All the sand and dust from the past few days were getting into him. Was that alright? He never knew himself to be averse to particles but now that he had sneezed for the fifth time, he began to assess once again.
"So, what do we have?" he asked his companions who were all too snappy and dusty to regard him with complete attention. They were hunkered on one of Calca's numerous shrub lands with the sheer size of the bulbous arthress succulents providing an adequate cover for them.
Everywhere Rhys looked, the desert was peppered with countless patches of green which served as an indication they were nearing an oasis. Rightly so, too. A mere distance from their hiding place, past the sloping dune their shrub land was located in, lay Lanbridhr's royal capital. Rhys's throat itched for a drink from that large, serene pool of green water sparkling against the Calcan midday sun.
Yesterday was a blizzard of running, evading, and constantly looking behind their backs. Marthiaq had gotten them in relatively one piece to this particular patch of green in the midst of the desert, using every drop of his energy to make them all invisible. Now, the brownie was collapsed face-first on the sand with his cloak wrapped around his head to protect his face holes from the sand.
That left Rhys, June, and Xanthy to stay up all night. They braved the sudden cold that crept into the desert during the dark. What better use of that time other than planning?
Of course, Rhys had been to Calca once during a daring escape from one of the desert pirates plaguing the Arid Lands. Or that's what he liked to tell himself. The whole escapade finished with a half-dead aksaba with its legs splayed to the sky and a memorable trip to the spiky tirch tree's home. It had taken a week before Rhys was able to find all the thorns poking his flesh in all the uncomfortable places.
Rhys glanced balefully at the abundance of thorns around him. It took everything in him to remind himself to carry the weight of his back. Never ever lean against these thorny globes by accident.
Xanthy sniffed and then sneezed. Oh, was the sand getting to her as well? Or perhaps it's because of the never-ending cycle of sweating by day and getting blasted by biting winds at night. The Virtakios frowned when June offered her a piece of cloth from his never-ending supply inside his bag. "We got the fancy desert paradise ahead of us and the burning hellfire of a city behind," she answered Rhys's question while blowing her nose into the cloth. "Or are you looking for a more specific answer?"
Rhys heaved a sigh, his own nose itching for another sneeze. How come nobody offered him any cloth pieces when he sneezes? It's unfair. He was half-tempted to ask the half-blood for some as well but he shook his head. Focus.
"A more specific answer, really," he ignored his twisting stomach. He was hungry again. "What I mean is if there's any plan we could implement so we can get to the Lanbridhr palace in one piece, talk to the Heir about our plan, and if he does not oblige peacefully, drag him out of here while outrunning local Calcan security, Gligan security, and our dear mercenary friends."
