COF 6: The Last Oracle

18 | Stop (II)

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.