The Forsaken Hero

The Great Chapel of the Divine Throne was widely renowned as the place closest to the Divine, where they spoke with their oracles and gave direction to their followers. Much to our relief, we found it relatively empty, with no sign of the Pope or any soldiers.

Filled with relief, I slowed and stared around the titanic room in awe, taking time to appreciate the enormous amounts of wealth and power that went into constructing such a place. We were on ground level, but the rafters marked the roof of the Divine Throne. Wide windows lined the great dome, allowing light to pour in and chase away the shadows.

Eight gargantuan statues stood proudly in alcoves surrounding the room, about equal to the size of their namesakes in the Colosseum, from before. The statues were exquisitely carved and detailed, made of transparent crystal, and looked as though they could start moving at any time. The image of the Sun God stood directly opposite the doors, beneath sprawling sheets of stained glass. It glowed brightly with a soft inner light. The expressions of the priests nearest it were bathed in its brilliance, which seemed to soothe away their worries. The light seemed cruel and unwelcoming and made my horns itch uncomfortably.

The other statues also had this inner light, although theirs varied in brightness. None came close to the Sun God. Only one statue seemed devoid of light. Fate. Her statue was dusty and worn down, without even a glimmer of care. While flowers and gifts adorned the other gods, hers was barren.

Within the circle of Deities, a crystal pillar towered into the air. Rainbow colors sparkled inside it, occasionally glancing out and painting spots of color within the otherwise white room.

Twenty or so priests milled about the room. Some were doing maintenance and cleaning the statues, while others simply bowed before their deity and prayed. I was interested to see several groups of people dressed in mismatched clothing gathered around the central crystal. They looked like characters right out of a storybook, dressed in armor, robes, or leather, and carrying weapons from sturdy bows taller than I was to graceful rapiers. A few carried staffs in their hands or wands on their belts. As we entered, they glanced at us. The priests gave the typical look of disgust mixed with hostility, but the others only seemed curious, as though wondering how a demonkin could possibly be here.

”Who are they?” I asked Soltair, keeping my voice low so they didn’t overhear us.

He had been grinning widely as I observed the room in awe, but turned to me seriously to answer the question. ”Those are adventurers. They’ve come to see their abilities and improvements. We call that the Shard of Omniscience. They’re gifts from the gods, apparently, and are scattered all around the world. There seems to be one in every major city.”

I nodded slowly, staring at the shard. Just like the light crystals and my slave crest, it was proof I truly was in another world. Why couldn’t it all be as beautiful as this pillar? Why was it so cold and lonely, so very dark?

Soltair took my hand, favoring me with a gentle smile. ”Come, we should hurry,” he said, pulling me forward. ”We can check the shard for proof of your awakening. It lets you see your abilities and skills anytime you touch it.”

”Awakening?”

Soltair nodded, but as he opened his mouth to respond, his eyes widened. I cried out as he pulled me close and dove aside, sending us both tumbling to the ground. A ray of blinding, fiery light scythed through the space I’d been standing, scorching the stone black. Smoke curled off the melted stone, carrying an acrid stench that burned within my sensitive nostrils.

Using the momentum of our fall, Soltair rolled to his feet. In a flash of silver, his sword was in his hand, drawn quicker than my eye could follow. ”Stay behind me!” he cried, circling toward the origin of the blast.

Someone had tried to kill me. The thought was terrifying, yet it was that same fear that spurred me to action. Struggling to my feet, I ignored the ache in my side and scrambled behind Soltair, clinging to him closely. Then, taking a breath, I peeked over his shoulder at our assailant.

The attacker stood at the entrance of the Great Chapel, marked by dark hair and dressed in ornate, flowing silver robes. An intricate, embroidered sun emblazoned his chest, seeming to signify some rank or order. A golden ring about as thick as my thumb and a foot in circumference floated in the air beside him, just a few inches over his shoulder. Thin ribbons of fiery light streamed from the inner rim, gathering in the center like a miniature sun.

”An inquisitor? What the hell are you doing?” Soltair spat, eyes flashing.

”A pity,” the man murmured, stroking his beardless chin. ”To be honest, I’m rather surprised you sensed that spell. I hadn’t thought your training had progressed to such a level.”

The ball of fire within the ring grew until it reached the edge. With the same, passionless expression, the silver-robed man waved his hand forward. A stream of fire erupted from the ball, throwing a line of fire toward us. The air popped and crackled around the flames, distorting with heat waves and obscuring the true target of the attack.

Taking a deep breath, Soltair raised his sword and chanted a few words. Glowing runes materialized around him, spinning quickly into magic circles. They resolved quickly, and an aura of brilliant light sprung up about his sword, dancing like a candle’s flame upon the edge. With a low shout, he cut forward, meeting the fiery stream head-on. The ray deflected off the blade, slicing through the air above a nearby priest’s head and scorching the wall.

Soltair leveled his still-glowing sword at the inquisitor’s chest. His eyes blazed light, voice practically shivering with fury. ”If you expected to win with that level of attack, I recommend you retire while you still stand, Inquisitor ”

The inquisitor frowned and raised his hand, preparing another attack, when a new voice cut through the tension. ”What in the hells are you doing? How dare you use magic before the Holy Pantheon!” It was the priest the ray had nearly struck, striding toward the silver-robed man. ”Not even an inquisitor can move here!”

”I’m afraid he can,” a familiar voice said.

The priest turned pale and quickly bowed as the Pope stepped out behind the inquisitor. A squad of armed soldiers filed in behind them, spreading out to surround us in. The adventurers quickly moved to the side, sending curious glances our way, undoubtedly wondering what we had done to earn such attention.

”Forgive my words, Holy One, but this is unprecedented,” the priest exclaimed. ”The Chapel is a place of divinity, not some mercenary bar ripe for a brawl!”

The Pope’s eyes narrowed, sending a shudder through the priest. ”You would think to lecture me in my own hall, Steward?”

The Pope’s words were cold and quiet, but his presence had no such restraint. It surged out in a semi-visible wave, overtaking the entire room in a heartbeat. My breath caught as it washed over me, a suffocating pressure that clutched at my heart and lungs, paralyzing me. I clutched weakly at Soltair’s arm, my tail stiff and rigid, fighting with every bit of strength I had left to keep from collapsing. Soltair tensed beneath the aura, but his breath came smoothly and his sword never faltered in his hand.

One of the Pope’s eyebrows twitched, and he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, staring at Soltair. ”To think you can withstand my aura. While only a portion, it’s still something many would boast about. Even so, you stand against me without cause. Stand aside, and let the will of the Divine go forth.”

My grip on Soltair’s arm tightened, and I looked up at him, eyes wide and pleading. He was silent for a moment, the hesitation making my heart skip a beat, sending a nervous tingle down my tail. At last, he spoke, filled with the same conviction he had when he pulled me from the darkness.

”Xiviyah is mine, and I will protect her. Even should the sky fall and heavens come against us, I will not abandon her.”

”Insolence! Do you not understand your place? You were called to defeat the demons, not stand beside them.”

”She is no demon, Holy One, but a hero like me. By attacking her, you attack one chosen of the gods to defend this world.”

Audible gasps filled the room, coming from the priests, soldiers, and adventurers. The Pope’s frown deepened, deep shadowed wrinkles emerging across his aged face. The inquisitor, on the other hand, suddenly smiled, sending a chill down down my spine.

”You claim a demon as our savior?” he asked. ”What heresy is this?”

”Not heresy. The truth,” Soltair replied.

The Inquisitor’s smile widened, and he exaggerated his next few words. ”The council of the Divine has always operated on principles of righteousness and justice. If you claim such with so much conviction, have you anything to prove your words? Surely, any hero sent by the gods must have awakened by now, no? A simple identification at the Shard should settle this matter.”

My heart skipped a beat and my face grew pale. Awakened? I didn’t even know what that meant yet!

Soltair glared at them for a second, then stiffly nodded. ”Very well. I will do it.”

He took me by the hand and, with a comforting smile, tugged me toward the Shard. Before we’d gone more than a few steps, the ring of knights tightened, blocking our path, and the inquisitor appeared.

”I believe it fair that I conduct this simple investigation. It is my role, after all, to prove the faithful.”

Soltair’s eyes narrowed, and he stepped beside me protectively. ”If you so much as lay a finger on her...”

The inquisitor raised his hands innocently. ”Of course not! Innocent until proven guilty.”

For some reason, the adventurers hidden in the corners of the room all rolled their eyes, disdain plain upon their faces. I glanced anxiously at Soltair, and my heart sank as he nodded.

”It’ll be fine,” he murmured and gave me a gentle push forward.

The inquisitor grabbed my shoulder, his fingers digging into my flesh like knives. He shoved me forward against the shard, roughly grabbing my hand and pushing up against the crystal. There was an explosion of light and warmth within my chest, and rainbow-colored light blossomed throughout the shard, gradually materializing into words.

A second later, the inquisitor’s grip went slack, his voice twisted in disbelief. ”How? How are you awakened?”