Spirits of the Most High Gods fulfill my wish.
The air thickened. A hand squeezed Xanthy's chest. She gasped and fell sideways. Her cheek hit the ground but it could barely scratch up to the sound of her body bursting with light. Her vision blurred; her throat closed up. Limbs flailed outside her control. Something came back out her mouth. It tasted like rust.
Remove the bonds, unravel the soul, went the chant.
Pain tore at her flesh and stabbed at her heart. Too much. Her friends' struggles were lost in her ears. Where did Marin go? Where was everyone?
It was pitch black.
Be the guide now that I enter the sacred place.
A woman stood over her. Lips moved in a thumping chant. Bells rang but maybe those were just Xanthy's ears. Queenly, white teeth shone in a vile glimmer through Xanthy's fading vision.
Reveal the light and let me touch the rays.
The world vanished in a sea of light. It burned Xanthy's eyes, her skin, her soul. She screamed but no sound came out. Or maybe, her throat had been ripped off her neck already. Rhythmic pain pulsed in her head, in her limbs.
Let me touch the gift and bring it back home.
The rest of the spell poured in a rapid torrent in her ears. She gagged. Retched. Nothing came out. From her ebbing sense, she watched the lights gather to a point and solidify into a sphere. The sphere sung a tale of vengeance, of regret. Of endless power and hidden might.
Then, the orb of light tore into two. Cold seeped into her veins as the sound of her soul ripping echoed in the empty cavern of her mind. Every tear, each fracture. Warmth ebbed from her skin. She was...far away.
Her eyes stopped seeing; her ears refused to hear. She...
Was back in her house?
Was everything just a dream, then? Oh. Xanthy thought for a second that it's all real. Thank the gods. Oh, that was one terrifying dream.
"Xanthiene, your food is ready!" a woman called from behind the wall to the kitchen. Xanthy yelped and pressed herself to the wall. A girl whizzed past her. A girl with khaki hair, plump cheeks, chestnut brown eyes, and small nose. A girl...who looked exactly like her.
What's going on? Where was she? Why wasn't she feeling any pain?
The walls struck her as odd. Instead of the peeling paint and the mess of lichen eating away at the bricks, they were scrubbed clean. New. The floor was shiny. The backdoor...still intact. It was what her house would look like if the years that did haven't passed.
It's as if...
I do not remember anything before I was ten. Her own voice echoed in her mind. The girl who looked like her was younger than ten. This was...
A memory.
In silence, she watched the woman with red gold hair pull out a low table and set a smoking basket of butterbread down. That's Xanthy's favorite pastry. Wait, what's a butterbread?
Her younger self settled on the floor by the low table, fished a pastry, and took a bite. The way the girl closed her eyes and wiggled her toes in savoring food was so similar to Xanthy that it spooked her.
Xanthy frowned, focusing her gaze on the woman watching her younger self eat. Who was she? Why was she here with Xanthy?
Most importantly, what happened to her friends? To the tower? To her legacy?
"Airlene," memory-Xanthy said with her mouth full of pastry. "When will I meet mom?"
Xanthy's breath hitched. Mom. Mother. Her parents.
The woman, Airlene, frowned. "You are not allowed to ask about that."
Xanthy scowled at the woman's thin lips and high cheekbones. Why won't she answer memory-Xanthy's question about their parents?
Memory-Xanthy set her half-eaten bread down. "But she's my Mom," large eyes blinked at Airlene. See, who could deny that girl of anything?
"Do not speak in Keijula," Airlene scolded. Her eyes narrowed and if possible, her lips further thinned when she pursed them.
"I'm a fairy," memory-Xanthy reasoned with a shrug. She took another bite of the bread. "Why wouldn't I be allowed to speak the language?"
Airlene drummed her finger on the table. "Because your life depends on it," she hissed. Geez. Calm down, woman. "If you do not behave, people will come after you."
That's...exactly what Vikara said. That means, she was planted in the Disfavoreds to hide? To escape those who wanted her power? How much did this woman know?
Memory-Xanthy's eyes widened. "Even Mom? Will she come and get me?"
Airlene sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. From the side of the memory, Xanthy narrowed her eyes. What things have happened to her mother that one couldn't say in front of a child?
"She cannot come. She cannot save you," Airlene reached out and brushed some crumbs at the corners of memory-Xanthy's lips. "You have to learn to save yourself."
Memory-Xanthy pouted. "I can't do that," she said, switching to Keijula once again.
"You do not have to do it alone," Airlene replied. "You will have people beside you if you call for them. You have me in the meantime. Lebayou will come soon."
Xanthy's ears pricked. Lebayou? What's that old man got to do with this?
"Airlene," memory-Xanthy shoved the last piece of butterbread into her mouth. "Why are you telling me this? You never talked so much about these stuff."
Airlene reached out and braced memory-Xanthy's temples with her thumbs. Orange light burned from Airlene's fingertips.
They must have access to a powerful thyminka. Thyminka. Airlene?
The scene shifted in a haze of colors, swirling and painting a focus on a single face she knew well. A face that she has seen a thousand times over over the course of her six-year stay in the Disfavoreds. A face...that didn't look so old.
Lebayou.
Only now, his gray hair was still black. His clothes were presentable and not those rumpled tunics he used to wear. Lastly, his ears jutted out from the side of his head to a point. Pointy ears. Fairy.
Xanthy gasped but none of the characters turned to her. She watched memory-Xanthy, who was a little bit taller and older now, standing by the front door. Memory-Xanthy stared up at Lebayou with wide and suspecting eyes.
The man had his hands behind him as he leaned down and said something that Xanthy didn't catch. Memory-Xanthy gave a small gasp of excitement. Xanthy frowned. What's going on?
From behind him, Lebayou suddenly produced a grown, white cat and passed it into memory-Xanthy's arms. "For you, Xanthy."
Xanthy. That's the first time she heard of the shortened version of her name.
Memory-Xanthy cradled the white cat into her arms and nuzzled her nose against its head. The cat yowled and stretched. "Who are you?" her younger self asked Lebayou.
"Call me Marthiaq," he answered.
Memory-Xanthy's nose wrinkled. "That's too hard."
Lebayou nodded and gestured for him to enter the house. Memory-Xanthy stepped aside. "Airlene told me you wouldn't speak any language besides Keijula," the man muttered as he ruffled his hair. "She's damn right."
Her younger self looked up from playing with the cat. "Airlene?" she furrowed her eyebrows. "Who's she?"
Lebayou's smile faded. Anger, pain, and regret flashed across his face in one smooth motion. Finally, his features relaxed to a thin-lipped smile. Xanthy narrowed her eyes. What happened to Airlene?
"I am your new guardian," Lebayou ducked his head as a greeting. "If you cannot pronounce my first name, you are more than welcome to refer to me by my last. My family name is Lebayou."
Memory-Xanthiene seemed to not care about what Lebayou's statement implied. Instead, a dreamy grin appeared on her younger self's lips as she tickled the act's underside. "Lebayou," she chuckled when the cat tried biting her finger. "Can I name him?"
"Her," Lebayou corrected. "And yes. You may."
Memory-Xanthy grinned wider. She hefted the cat by the crook of its forelegs. The cat yawned with a flick of its pink tongue. "I'll call you Harriet. It's a cute name and you're cute," she giggled. It was such a pure sound. "Harriet."
Lebayou's smile turned sad as he reached out and braced memory-Xanthy's temples again. Xanthy's throat closed up. Not again. No! She reached out to stop it from happening but her fingers sailed through Lebayou's face. Her eyes widened.
"Your new life begins now, Xanthiene," Lebayou said. Orange light erupted from his fingers.
No!
The scene shifted into a dark landscape. Xanthy was floating. And glowing. What...?
You must have a lot of questions, a voice that sounded so much like her rang through the dark. Xanthy whipped around, squinting. She found no possible source.
The voice chuckled. I pulled your consciousness away before that spell reached our connection. Fortunately, that spell was strong enough to break down our aunts' barriers separating us. Now, I can contact you anytime I want.
"Who in the Queen's britches are you?" Xanthy demanded.
That doesn't matter now, the voice snapped. It didn't sound pissed, though. Just in a hurry. When I send you back out there, you will feel pain. The spell is almost complete.
Spell? Oh. "It ended years ago," Xanthy said. "Didn't it?"
No, the voice answered. It carried a ring of calm as it did. When you make it back, don't fight the Virtakios. Rather, break the chains around it so you could control it.
"Chains?" Xanthy shook her head. "What are you talking about?"
Look to your soul and set the Virtakios free.
Set it free? Then that would...
"It would destroy everything around me," Xanthy scoffed. "It could even hurt my friends. There's no way I'm letting that thing out. I won't touch it."
People will always get hurt for the Virtakios's sake, a hint of sadness crept to the voice's tone. It's a truth you must learn to accept.
Xanthy couldn't. She preferred that no one got hurt. Most importantly, she wished no one would suffer for her sake.
"I can't do that," Xanthy sighed. "I just can't."
You are the Virtakios's master, not the other way around, the voice advised. You control it. Don't let it control you. Fight. Trust me.
Xanthy recoiled. "Trust you?" she scoffed. "I don't even know you."
The voice seemed to be smiling. I am you.
Before Xanthy could open her mouth to retort, she was yanked backward. A thousand hammers pounded on her stomach as she was stretched thin. Too thin. One inch more and she could snap into two. Light burned her senses.
Trust the voice. What's left of her gut seemed to tell her. Trust the voice. What did the voice say?
Break the chains to control it. It sounded counter-intuitive but she was running out time.
The only way you can find peace is when you find your core. The High Priestess to the Temple of Magic had said those words a long time ago. What was the core she was talking about? Could it be...?
Core. The Virtakios.
Find it. Break it out of its chains. Unleash it.
Xanthy sighed. Magic that's not hers wrapped around her soul, stabbing and hissing. Something kept the spell at bay. Something...
Barrier.
No time to think about who and why that barrier was there. Xanthy let her consciousness drift. She sank and sank, the endless clouds of her being smothering the foreign wisps of magic. Cold gripped more of her body and seemed to have eaten its way to her chest. She gritted her nonexistent teeth. Deeper.
Unlike the searing beams stabbing at her skin, as she retreated deeper into herself, wisps of subtler colors whipped around her. Intertwining, swirling, and zipping. The colors bled into a bright landscape leading to the brightest light.
Breath escaped from Xanthy's consciousness. Her soul and ultimately, the Virtakios.
The foreign magic speared from the heavens and slammed into Xanthy's core. She shook and shivered. This must be what Erin's doing to her soul.
She watched as Erin's spell jabbed lances of magical energy again and again. Each strike was blocked by a transparent dome seemingly surrounding the center of her soul. The barrier. Two more strikes erupted against it. Muffled screaming reached Xanthy's consciousness.
Xanthy clicked her tongue. This has to stop. Extending her consciousness to her own soul, she called her magic and struck the barrier. It held. Beyond her, the screams increased. It might have been hers. Hurry.
She had to hurry.
Xanthy gritted her teeth as she struck again. Erin's laugh chilled Xanthy's blood. More of the foreign energy shook her soul as they struck their target.
Wait...
Xanthy snorted at the mere absurdity of her own idea. It must be the spell. Or her own fading sanity. If Xanthy told the Xanthy from two weeks ago that she would be stuck inside her own being while looking at her soul being bombarded, she would have passed out.
Her magic flickered below her skin. Just a little more. A spear of magic sped for her soul. Oh, this was going to hurt. Instead of letting it naturally hit, Xanthy lashed an arm out, gripped the bright lance with her own hands, and plunged it against the barrier. A scream tore out from her mouth and her consciousness.
Cracks spread from the barrier. With each new web, light from her soul seeped through. Then, the barrier shattered. Fire spread from her soul, burning a charred trail in its wake. Xanthy recoiled. The Virtakios raged as it broke free.
She felt its hunger. After years of being contained under a barrier, it was thirsty for blood. It wanted revenge.
Unleash it. The voice had told Xanthy. Unleash it to do what? Endlessly destroy? No! Xanthy came here to save and not cause more deaths. She...
You control it. The voice's calm voice wrapped in the nerves in Xanthy's brain. Don't let it control you.
Xanthy gasped. That's it. Unleash the Virtakios's hunger for justice...by expending justice of her own.
She shrieked. Her voice matched the Virtakios's rage. They pushed through the lances of magic attacking them. Erin's triumphant exclaims got louder as Xanthy neared the surface. Control the Virtakios. Unleash.
Fight.
The darkness swept through Xanthy's vision like a bird wing. It felt unwelcoming. Cold. She recoiled. Not again! She couldn't lose control. Not this time.
Her bones snapped. Her skin tore. Cold wrapped around her soul. The Virtakios brewed a storm in her gut.
"I see it! I see the Virtakios!" Erin's voice slowed and elongated. "It is mine!"
The darkness owned the laugh that followed as its own. Taunting Xanthy. Breaking her.
Not this time.
Xanthy gritted her teeth. She wouldn't be a slave to her own power. At the same time, she let the darkness consume her.
Let the Virtakios reign.