The Forsaken Hero

Grand Inquisitor Korvin led our small party through the city in an unceremonious parade. Occasionally, students or citizens noticed our passage and gathered, clapping or whispering rumors of our departure. The amulet

Glancing behind, I found the campus lonely and forlorn. Many of the towers were damaged, and the proud pennants that had greeted our arrival were in tatters. But, somewhere in the broken university, was the source of the light that sustained me.

”Till we meet again,” I whispered.

As I turned and followed Soltair and Trithe through the gate, the amulet pressed heavily against my chest. For some reason, it was harder to adjust to its oppressive presence than the pain of the Sunpurge had been. It was an omnipresent shadow woven through the very fabric of my soul itself, and I couldn’t even consider drawing my mana except its taint coursed through me.

”Where are we going, exactly?” Trithe asked, quickening her step to walk beside Korvin.

”The Shard of Omniscience. The church’s teleport network uses them as its center. The Nexus itself is based in the Origin Shard in the Archives, but we can jump between shards without passing through there.”

”How many shards are there, exactly?” Soltair asked.

”Hundreds,” Korvin said shortly. ”Nearly every city in the world was built with one at its center. They serve pivotal roles in distributing magic and quantifying abilities. Without them, adventurers, soldiers, and even kings have no way to determine their value and power without engaging in life-threatening combat. A child might have ninth-level magic, but could live their entire life in ignorance, depriving this world of a new and rising power.”

I recalled my conversation with the Keeper of the Archives, a ninth-level mage named Rithon. Although our encounter was brief, his knowledge, as well as his unusual mind magic, held a firm place amongst my memories, many of which of that time were scattered. If Rithon was to be believed, the Shards of Omniscience didn’t simply allow users to see their abilities but were solely responsible for them as well. The gods claimed magic was a miraculous gift to the sentient beings of their various worlds, yet that was all a facade. Magic was a naturally occurring force of chaos that altered reality. The gods simply created the shards that allowed it to be harnessed. So what then would happen to a world if its shards were taken?

”What the hell?” Soltair’s voice cut me from my revere.

Looking up, I found our party at the base of the mountain facing the summit where the Shrine of the Shard rested. A massive thirty-foot crater cut away the base of the road, blocking our path forward.

”A footprint?” Trithe asked, mouth slightly agape.

”Oh,” I mumbled, bashfully curling a strand of hair around my finger.

Soltair glanced at me, a mixture of condemnation and respect on his face. ”Is this that Earth Spirit you were talking about? Xiviyah, that’s... too cool! I thought you were exaggerating, but you rode a literal mountain. If you ever decide to do something like that again, you’d better invite me!”

I nodded, somewhat overwhelmed by his enthusiasm. To be honest, I wasn’t sure what else I’d expect from the Sun Hero, given his rather immature tendencies, but I was relieved nonetheless.

My scalp prickled, and I risked a glance at the Grand Inquisitor. His face, which typically appeared impassive, held a slight scowl. He held my gaze for a moment, sending chills down my spine, before he turned and waved his hand. Hundreds of runes materialized above the crater, rapidly spinning together to form five magic circles.

”Earthen Flow!”

The ground rumbled, nearly shaking me from my feet as rocks, boulders, and lumps of earth rolled toward the crater, rapidly filling it in. Within seconds, the ground was level with the road, resembling a recently plowed field. The crater had vanished, set apart from the road only by the lack of cobblestone paving.

”Come. We’ve wasted enough time,” Korving said.

The miles-long climb up the mountain sapped my strength and robbed me of my breath. The only reprieve came as we arrived before another footprint, with Korvin filled with a single spell. While catching my breath, I grew to appreciate his absolute mastery over his magic. Every ninth-level caster surpassed me in every way, but I had thought I was closing the gap. Yet now my increased understanding only allowed me to see how far that gap truly was.

When at last we reached the top, my legs were trembling with exhaustion. Chest heaving, I collapsed onto one of the marble benches, staring up at the sky.

”Come, filthblood. I have no patience for your antics,” Korvin snarled, standing impatiently before the shrine’s stairway.

”Oh, relax,” Soltair grumbled. ”She’s only just been freed from that dungeon, you know. Normal people take longer than a few days to recover from weeks of starvation and mistreatment.”

”I’m aware,” Korvin replied flatly. ”Trust me. I have tested the limits of filthblood like her for hundreds of years. You would be surprised how much pain they can handle for breaking. But,” his tone dropped, ”they always break. I would be interested to see how this one can manage under the same treatment.”

His eyes flashed menacingly, sending a chill down my twitching tail. Shaking from fear as much exhaustion, I quickly rose. ”I’m ready.”

”As I would expect,” Korvin snorted, beginning to descend.

The autumn sun hung low in the sky as I entered the shrine, casting long shadows before me. The shadows of the stairwell enveloped the party one by one, swallowing them entirely.

At the bottom, the Shard glimmered exactly as I remembered it. Several youths dressed in school uniforms from House Phoenix, another of the school’s houses, stood at attention. They parted wordlessly, bowing low in respect as the Grand Inquisitor passed, only raising their head to shoot us heroes curious looks.

”You may leave,” Korvin said without turning his head.

The students jumped at his sharp tone and hurried away, closing the door behind them. Korvin moved before the shard, raising a hand until it hovered half an inch from the crystal’s surface.

”So how do we teleport?” Soltair asked, sauntering up beside him. The Sun Hero’s eyes glistened in excitement. If he had a tail, I was certain it would be wagging. ”I heard it takes a lot of resources, but I don’t see anything here to help us.”

The Inquisitor snorted, eyes carrying a hint of disdain for the childish behavior. ”It requires something far more valuable than gold or provisions. Mana.”

”Mana?” Trithe asked, stepping up and grabbing Soltair’s hand. At her touch, his composure returned, and he joined her in examining the shard.

”Teleportation is no easy feat. It requires an exorbitant amount of mana far greater than you can comprehend. There are none save ninth-level mages who possess what is needed, but doing so leaves us completely drained.”

”That’s not that big a deal, though,” Soltair said, tapping his chin. ”You can just regenerate it naturally, right?”

Korvin sighed, beginning to weave a myriad of runes in the air. ”With each successive evolution, your soul is granted a greater proportion of mana. Around the seventh level, the growth of your mana accelerates disproportionately to recovery. At ninth level, most mages take weeks to fully restore themselves. With so few ninth levels that can be relied on, it’s only natural we teleport as a last resort. Now silence. I must complete the incantation or it will all be for naught.”

Trithe dragged Soltair back to where I stood, giving the man some space. I watched, intently memorizing the runes and circles as they spiraled across the surface of the Shard. While it was only a sixth-circle spell, it was far from simple, outweighing anything I’d ever witnessed before. The Inquisitor’s chant was slow and deliberate, with every single syllable enunciated clearly. There were many unfamiliar words and runes, but I managed to gain more than I originally anticipated. The next time I had reference material, I was certain I could recreate nearly fifty percent of the spell.

When the final rune slotted into place, the entire Shard blazed to life, glowing so brightly it burned the lingering shadows out of existence. A surge of mana erupted, flooding from the Inquisitor’s soul into the shard, stimulating the immense supply of mana already there. As the two forces interacted, a massive magic circle, filled with millions of runes, spread out over the ground.

As the last of his mana emptied into the shard, Korvin sagged, weakly stumbling outside the radius. His eyes fell on Soltair, who was looking about no less eagerly than I. ”I expect you to return her to me when next we meet.”

”Naturally. We’re headed to the Divine Throne for the anniversary celebration, anyway,” Soltair replied, not taking his eyes off the circle.

”See that you do. Now godspeed, hero.”

With those final words ringing in our ears, the light expanded, enveloping us like fog. My entire body hummed, and I took on the weightless sensation I experienced as a soul during my visions. A moment later, ground appeared beneath my feet. I stumbled at the abrupt appearance, but a strong hand appeared from somewhere, steadying me.

Slowly, the light retreated, and I opened my eyes. The underground chamber of the Shrine had vanished, replaced by vaulted ceilings and tall, colorful stained glass windows. A sea of unfamiliar faces filled the expansive room, turned to us expectantly. At last, my gaze settled on the man whose chest I rested again.

”Well hello, beautiful,” exclaimed a cheerful voice, the voice of the Fire Hero, Alex