7 | Raid (II)

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Nelnifa twiddled her fingers as they sat on a small, rounded table

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Nelnifa twiddled her fingers as they sat on a small, rounded table. Xanthy stared at the wooden surface, studying the varying patterns of dark and sand brown swirling around each other.

Xanthy folded her hands together as she glanced at the heir now seated across her. Nelnifa Corledia, the heir to the Desaran throne, found Xanthy and June with their faces planted in the sand at the foot of Pelrise's Lighthouse in Orayta. When prompted with the thought of going to Desara, the bard's tower was the first thing which flashed into Xanthy's mind so here they were.

The lighthouse, standing on a cape giving way to the wild, unforgiving sea, belonged to the historical figure who lived way, way back. Xanthy had been there with Cirasa when she was searching for the chalice, which also happened to be Desara's throne. Her gut twisted at that thought. That seemed long ago now.

A lot has happened since she was last there. June was now alive and healthy. Xanthy had been in and out of the Realm of the Lost. Reeca had seen Narfalk fall and Xanthy thought Nyxis had died. Then, he came back to life by some miracle.

When she asked Nyxis about how he survived his fall, the human gave him a half-shrug and told her it was luck. Xanthy knew better. He lied because he didn't want to talk about it. And when he didn't want to talk about things, it meant he was still processing what happened. Xanthy knew enough to not press him about it.

She had gotten in enough trouble with June when she kept trying to discover his past. Even if June wouldn't admit it, Xanthy knew she scared him from admitting the truth. She was so eager to learn secrets and truths she ended up pushing people away and learning nothing at all.

If there was anything to be learned, any lesson she could have realized, was that the truth would come to her in its own time. Everything would be revealed in time. And in most cases, ignorance would be better.

Xanthy bit the inside of her cheek. It had been a day since they materialized in Desara. June had to carry her on his back since her magic had been emptied to nothing. She had a vague recollection of him scolding her for tapping into her reserves and letting it all out. What followed was a wall of darkness.

She woke up after a few hours of needed sleep to find herself at the back of a tavern made of stitched blade-like leaves for walls and thin but sturdy salvia trunks for the poles supporting the walls. Xanthy eyed the people coming in and out of place, drinking on husked cups and ducking back out. Who among them could be potentially working for Cardovia or Synktetros?

Desara hasn't changed much since Xanthy was last here. The air still contained bits of sand which preferred to poke her in the eye. The seashore still looked as enticing as ever. Curved boats were either parked by the beach or a few distance from the shore, their passengers lowering netted baskets into the light blue water.

Xanthy had spent the last twenty minutes being amused as one boat lifted its designated basket filled to the brim with flopping fishes. The sound of fins slapping the trap's netted walls were audible even from this distance.

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