Through the smoke and flames, Phantasia could just about make out what was left of the opposite end of the long throne room. It looked as if the end of the building had been ripped away leaving a crumbling precipice hanging over the church below and a gaping hole in the ceiling above. The deep red carpet, along which Phantasia had arrived in Wotan’s company only a few hours before, was feeding the flames, which danced ever closer, as if the carpet were a fuse and Wotan’s throne its bomb.

The cause of all this destruction, one Yokai Kitsune, had collapsed on one knee from exertion. Phantasia understood the feeling well: the Fire faerie had channelled a great deal of power – enough manifest a reaction in the physical world – and was now struggling to recuperate in the harsh ethereal environment, tainted as it was by countless human emotions. The lingering sentiment of the Patriarch only served to make things worse – death had such a strong impact on mana that it required special attention from the Reapers, the so-called ‘faeries of Death’. It wouldn’t be long now before Phantasia and Yokai would be able to sense the chill of their purity descending on the scene.         Of all the Fae, the Death faeries were the least sociable and most feared. Able to harness the powers of all four elements, they took it upon themselves to tend to the cycle of life, death and reincarnation that kept the world running. When someone died – be they human, demon or faerie – a Reaper would help guide their spirit onwards. In the case of human deaths, the Reapers would also need to tend to the scene itself, as death could cause a variety of side-effects ranging from feelings of regret manifesting as haunting apparitions to animalistic demons forged from a murder’s hate.

As similar as she was to them in many ways, Phantasia wasn’t a Death faerie. Death faeries didn’t purify corruption. Instead, they would divert the streams around it, and then try to remove the cancer using their scythes. If that wasn’t enough, the contamination could be condensed until it took a demonic state that could be killed, exploding the corruption wide into the streams, rather than leaving it to rot. That was probably what would happen here, with the remnants of the Patriarch – unless Phantasia did something about it first. If only she had the energy!

“Phantasia, I was meaning to ask you,” said Wotan, “Your powers aren’t like an ordinary faerie’s, are they?”

“I purify the Darkness,” she said, “I’ve not got an elemental alignment. Actually, some think I’m like a merging of the elements, but don’t use any of their powers. I can’t.”

Yokai picked herself up and wheezed. “Sucks to be you. How’d you think you could kill that geezer if you couldn’t blast him with anything?”

“I figured I’d try and purify his aura,” said Phantasia, “I thought it might have the same effect as when I fought the leansídhe. I kinda forgot about the whole physical body thing though,”

The red-haired faerie tried to laugh, but coughed instead.

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” said Wotan, “That shadow you purified was just a corruption of chi. It’s easy to detoxify the air, but to cure a living being of poison takes something else – especially if the poison is what gives them strength!”

Phantasia felt stupid, like she was back in the Water Queendom listening to a scholar trying to explain how to read the waters. She hadn’t really thought her plans through and had acted on instinct. It was hard to make a plan when you didn’t understand your own powers! True, if she’d paid more attention if class…

Yokai laughed properly this time. “You mean to say you tried to heal him with love?”

Phantasia felt a shiver of embarrassment. At least Wotan was an adult – Yokai was only a year older than her at most! It was worse than having Faye chastise her brash actions. At least Faye was a Water faerie and so prone of tactless, truthful statements. Yokai was a Fire faerie – they were just arrogant.

“It was worth a try,” Phantasia mumbled.

Chapter 23
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