The Forsaken Hero

As the hours crawled by, the banquet seemed to stretch on indefinitely. While the feasting was limited to a mere hour, drinks flowed throughout the entire night. The other heroes enthusiastically indulged in the assortment of exotic delicacies, their faces lighting up with surprise as they eagerly devoured the dishes before them. Some retained their manners, but conversation dwindled as they rushed to fill their stomachs. Despite my initial melancholy, the alluring aromas and the spectacle of the heroes’ enjoyment briefly rekindled my appetite, but that only led to disappointment as everything turned to ash the instant in met with my tongue. Even the fine spiced wines were thin, and I couldn’t bring myself to down more than a few swallows.

As the servants ceased bringing new dishes around, the heroes began to strike up a conversation once more. From all appearances, the humiliation from earlier was forgotten, yet from their subtle glances and reluctance to meet my gaze, I knew it was burned within their minds.

I embraced the solitude, grateful that even Soltair held back from anything more than a few words in my direction. His wavering eyes betrayed an inner sorrow I couldn’t comprehend. Why hadn’t he done anything? Was this the cause behind his strange words from before the banquet? If he had only told me, then... then... I shook my head. No, that was asking too much. I wouldn’t have agreed to come here if I knew what was going on, but the church couldn’t allow that. They needed my image reinforced in the minds of the world. All that was left would be to force me, and that would barely take them a sentence.

Realization dawned on me that, perhaps, this a mercy in Soltair’s eyes. And while I could understand that, I couldn’t bring myself to accept it. Was he not the strongest hero? Didn’t he carry the authority of the church and state? The more I thought about it, the less sense things made. Why hadn’t he ever exercised that authority on my behalf? He held the full power of my slave crest, yet never relieved any of my pain or lessened the sway commandments held, hiding behind pretentious excuses the whole while.

Acting almost unconsciously, I edged away from him, sitting on the edge of my seat. I knew I was jumping to conclusions, but my faith was shaken. What if he really had been deceiving me this whole time? I’d known far too many men who sought power over another he did, to make a girl dependent and control their whole beings, only to betray and leave them broken in their sadistic wake.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop the tears from welling up. Pain and sorrow ravaged my heart, and I found myself lost in fervent prayer to Fate. Everything lost focus, and I simply tried to endure, clinging to the wavering hope that everything was not as it seemed.

I was so caught up in myself that I hardly felt Soltair’s hand fall on my shoulder. Furiously scrubbing my eyes, I brushed it away. ”Please, leave me alone,” I whispered. I couldn’t face him now. Not yet.

’It’s okay, Xiviyah. You’ll make it.” Soft breath tickled my ear as a soft and decidedly feminine voice made me turn in confusion.

Tracing the arm on my shoulder, I looked up into Korra’s vivid blue eyes. The water hero’s guarded features were unusually relaxed, a hint of compassion to mellow out her sharp features.

”Would you care to walk with me?” She asked, holding out her hand.

My eyes widened slightly at the unexpected invitation, and I cast a hesitant look at Soltair. He was fully engaged in a conversation with Alex and Levin, his hands constantly animated as he recounted some adventure or another.

I nodded shyly, clasping her hand and making to stand. Korra casually lifted, trying to help me rise, and an unexpected force nearly tore my arm from its socket. I flew into the air, stumbling several steps before she reflexively caught me in her arms.

”Sorry!” She squeaked, staring down at her hand. ”I thought you’d be a little...oh, never mind.”

She laughed, running a nervous hand through her hair. My heart pounded in my ears and I rubbed my trembling arm, anxiously peering about to see if anyone had noticed. At some point, the banquet had left the tables, and guests milled amongst each other. Fortunately, very few were looking our way, and no one seemed particularly surprised.

Still rubbing my aching arm, I took a step back, a slight scowl on my face. Her unfinished sentence stung a bit, as my lack of strength was something I felt every time Soltair and I interacted. Heroes of their level could rip a full-grown oak from its roots, forget throwing a hundred-ten-pound girl like myself across the room.

Korra’s shifted uncomfortably, coughing lightly and gesturing to one of the side doors. ”This way.”

I have wanted to shake my head and rejected her invitation, but the slave crest took it as a command and propelled me onward. We were close to the door but were still forced to move through several parties, and I readied myself to pass through them with as little disturbance as possible.

Before I could act, Korra strode forward directly toward them, walking with the confidence even that even mountains would flee her presence. Regardless of social status or strength, the powerful nobles and priests moved aside at once, interrupting their conversations to bow respectfully to the Water Hero. I could only hurry in her wake, nodding respectfully to the guests as their expressions of awe turned to disgust. Brief as it was, the juxtaposition of their awe and scorn pierced me like an arrow. By the time we reached the hallways, I was panting softly, keeping my hands tangled in my dress to keep from trembling.

Amidst the lively chatter and laughter that filled the grand hall, the church had thoughtfully prepared various rooms and balconies, each adorned with opulent draperies and soft, warm lighting. These secluded spaces offered respite from the bustling crowd, allowing guests to indulge in hushed conversations and intimate discussions. The towering mountains behind the glowing city of Roann broke the shadowy horizon, pointing upwards to the first stars glistening in the sky.

I came across Korra, leaning with grace against the balcony’s wrought-iron railing. My hands fidgeted nervously as I stood a little behind her, caught up in the beauty of the scene. The Water Hero’s gaze was fixed on the darkening sky, her beauty strong and graceful against the city of Roann. The dusk shadows swept across the landscape, interjected only by the city’s upward-reaching towers, like steadfast sentinels pointing at the first stars.

Mustering my courage, I edged forward until I stood beside her. She glanced at me somberly, and I felt a weight settle in my stomach. Her lips parted slightly, but her jaw snapped shut with a click, and a slight red flustered her cheeks. ”Sorry,” she said, looking back up at the sky. ”I’m not sure what to say. Talking’s never been my strength.”