THIRD BOOK OF THE CHRONICLES OF FANTASILIA SERIES
𝘈 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴. 𝘈 𝘥𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘺𝘯𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘺. 𝘈 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳. 𝘈 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴.
Two sides of the same coin are brought to the light...
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June winded a corner into a dim alley, tucking himself deeper into his cloak. A dead weight hung in his heart. He figured out why the bodies he found in Yin-Alora were that way.
It's to get his attention, to draw him out of his mission. The clues were planted there specifically for him and whoever did it knew his operations. That could only mean that this assassin not only aimed to challenge June, they also sought him.
A word. A quick exchange of pleasantries and June would go back to the tavern. Xanthy was no fool. She was onto him. He hated it that he had to lie to her every time she came close to figuring out his identity. It wasn't complicated arithmetic to know that what they had would come crashing down the moment Xanthy knew the truth.
June intended to enjoy every second he spent with Xanthy before everything spirals out of control. The past few days were just an illusion he painted for himself. He had the right to cherish those memories, right?
He didn't have much time left and he spent that time lying to Xanthy's face. He loathed himself for it.
The roads in this part of Nanvera were barren and unkempt. Even the owner of the place he stashed the fairies in said that this part of the Imperial City didn't get many tourists. Good for June. It had its own stables, houses, and taverns. Enough for June to conduct a meeting with the Peltran assassin.
His hand crept to the dagger sheathed on his belt. The feel of the sleek hilt against his palm was a reminder of why he was out in the world. Of why he was free. He shook his head. Don't think about it. Don't think about anything. If that assassin shows up, June has to have a clear mind. A suiting way to get ready before a kill.
Last night, when both girls slept, he crept out of the stable, hid his face, and grabbed one unsuspecting passerby. By the time morning rolled on, there's news around the town of the Death Knight's return.
June had propped himself next to Xanthy so that by the time she wakes, it would be just as if he never left. Then, he left them in the tavern, going out of his way to smile and assure Xanthy that he'd be back.
Well, if the assassin was really as good as he professes, June might not come back at all. The rest of the Imperial Council could finally say good riddance to each other. June chuckled lightly, finding that sudden thought of death funny. Well, if Pidmena decides to reap his soul then so be it. Saves him from a lot of trouble later on.
His footsteps ceased. He froze, watching the wind ruffle his hair on and off his forehead. He looked left and there, against the wall, leaned a figure dressed in a dark knee-length coat and boots. A wide brimmed hat was pulled low to his face. The figure seemed to be smoking something judging from the smell of oshella wafting in the air.
June crept closer. His hand tightened around his dagger.
A flash of silver whizzed by his periphery, leaving a stinging cut on his cheek even as he dodged. He lunged forward. The sound of metal clanging against its own kind rang in the quiet Nanvera air. June gritted his teeth as his dagger strained against another. A boy chuckled underneath the hat.
