The Forsaken Hero

The party assembled in the common room, which was practically empty after the night’s festivities. The villagers had returned to their farms and trades around the village, and, much to my relief, the richly dressed merchant from before was gone.

”You sleep alright?” Tana asked, sliding into the seat next to me.

I looked down at my lap, as she set a tray of breakfast in front of me. ”Yes.”

She pursed her lips together. ”Really? You look worse than when you went to bed. Is something bothering you?”

I shook my head, carefully avoiding her concerned gaze, and jumped as a loud clatter startled me from the other side of the table.

”Sorry,” Sorrin muttered, settling into his chair. ”I forget how easily you startle. Dyson’s out getting information right now, and we’ll leave as soon as he gets back. Do you have everything?”

Nodding, I tapped my spatial ring. It contained everything I’d used on my last adventure, as well as whatever additional materials Thron thoughtfully provided. My most prized possession among the contents was the librarian’s hastily scrawled note, weathered by use, tear-stained, its creases delicate from countless openings and closings. I’d been reluctant to examine the spellbooks, not only because my soul was far from being able to handle them, but because I felt that they were a final parting gift from Thron, and to read them would be to accept that I’d never see him again.

Dyson returned shortly, coming through the inn doors scarcely a minute after we set aside our table scraps. As we departed Westfall Village, I couldn’t help but look behind. Two Foxkin children stood between the houses, nearly swallowed up in the commotion of the village square. Their ears perked up as they caught my gaze, and they both began waving excitedly.

I looked at them for a moment, not quite sure what to do. People had always been waving at Soltair, but what had he done to respond? Nothing I thought of felt proper.

Tana nudged me, smiling. ”Wave back,” she whispered.

Oh. That made sense.

Ror and Sari smiled brightly as I raised my hand. After a few more waves, they ran off into the village, talking and laughing together. Tana patted my shoulder, carefully avoiding the Sunpurge.

”They really look up to you,” she said thoughtfully.

”I just taught them a little about magic.”

”More than a little, by the looks of it. I caught Sari casting quite an interesting Light spell. Never seen anything like it, even in the tomes at the Guildhouse. Care to show me?”

”Well I, um...alright.”

While working with Sari, I’d referenced some of the basic rune and chant material in one of my spellbooks, creating a chant for the modified Light spell. It had been months since I’d even thought of chants, but my knowledge had been only a thought away. Somehow, perhaps driven by my intimate love of magic, I’d managed to preserve it from the constant decaying influence of pain and shadow.

Tana was a quick learner, correctly casting the spell mere minutes after I shared the chant. Her elfin eyes sparkled with wonder as she manipulated the magic circle to turn the intensity of the luminescence up and down.

”Incredible,” she breathed, and she turned to me, unable to restrain her curiosity. ”Where did you find this spell?”

I held one of my horns, overly conscious of my tail swishing behind me. ”Well, um, I sort of made it.”

She froze mid-step, mouth forming into a small ”O.” ”You made it? Like you wrote the chant and everything? Is something like that even possible?”

I nodded shyly, feeling my face flush with heat. ”It’s not really that big of a deal.”

”I beg to differ!” she protested. ”I don’t even think one of the Pope has created his own spell.”

”It’s just a small modification, not like it’s a new spell or anything,” I protested, anxiously glancing at the other party members. With their fourth-level physiques, they were naturally far ahead, but Tana’s voice would easily carry the distance. With any luck, they wouldn’t notice, and I’d be able to-

”What’s all this about?” Sorrin asked, glancing over his shoulder.

My eyes locked onto his Wolfkin ears, which were swiveled in our direction. ”N-nothing! We’re just talking about magic and-”

Tana laughed, skipping ahead to walk beside him. ”It’s hardly nothing. Starlight here invented her own spell! Do you have any idea how incredible that is?”

”Not really,” he admitted, ”But I’m guessing it’s pretty impressive.”

”Of course it is!” Dyson broke in, ”I just knew Starlight was special! She’s not only beautiful, but a-” he coughed at a glare from Tana, ”- but a talented mage. Not one in a million can do something like that.”

”Is that true? But you learn new spells all the time,” Sorrin said, giving Tana a confused look.

She rolled her eyes, reaching out to ruffle his hair affectionately. ”Thanks for the confidence, but it’s not the same at all. According to the church, the full spellbook was created thousands of years ago by the ancient mages, who were first gifted magic by the gods. Every spell we would ever need was put to runes so it was easier for their descendants to learn.”

”Easier?” I asked, meeting her gaze. She raised an eyebrow, and I regained some of my timidity, clasping my hands together. ”It’s not easier, foregoing runes is all but impossible. Can you cast any spells chantless?”

Her expression tightened, and she reluctantly shook her head.

”Magic is as endless as one’s imagination. Trying to claim ’all’ the spells were invented is like saying every wave in the sea has crested. Chants are nothing more than the church’s attempt to control mages. It makes spells easier to learn but also binds mages in their bounds. How is it that there is a spell for conjuring light, but not for controlling how bright it is? By adjusting the fifty-third through sixty-seventh runes in the sequence, you can make it as bright as a torch or as dim as a firefly.”

I trailed off, growing red as I realized the rest of the party was staring at me. My hand flew to my mouth and my tail trembled bashfully.

”Sorry,” I all but whimpered. ”I-I didn’t mean to-”

Dyson laughed, falling back to pat me on the back. ”Nonsense, Starlight. I didn’t know you were so enthusiastic about magic. You don’t have to be embarrassed about it, either. This party’s nothing if not open-minded. I mean, we’ve literally got a demonkin in our party now. Did I mention she’s especially charming when she blushes?”

Everyone, including Dyson, looked at Tana, expecting her to berate him, but she was frozen in place, staring at me listlessly. Feeling everyone’s eyes on her, she shook herself, her pointed ears going red.

”Sorry, I was just thinking. What’d I miss?” She asked, quickly regaining her composure.

Sorrin glared at me, and my shoulders sagged. ”I’m sorry, Tana. I didn’t mean to get so worked up. It’s just...you know,” I finished lamely.

She blinked, silent for a moment, and then gracefully swept over to me, somehow inserting herself between Dyson and myself. She wrapped an arm around my shoulder, drawing me into a short hug.

”There’s nothing to apologize for,” she said firmly, ”We’re here to support each other, and that includes correcting when wrong. But I’m curious, how do you know so much about magic? And why would you say that about the church?”

”I...I’d rather not say,” I whispered, trying to pull away from her warmth.

A frown flitted across her face, gone so fast I nearly convinced myself it wasn’t there. ”That’s alright. If you ever want to talk about things, I’m here for you.”

I nodded, doing my best to appear cheerful. ”Thanks.”

The rest of the day passed fairly quickly. The party talked and laughed together reminiscing about past adventures and discussing the upcoming investigation. Tana and Sorrin seemed particularly close, never more than a few steps apart, and while Rasce acted as an outsider, he was always quick with a witty remark or teasing smile. By the time we stopped for the day, I’d begun to lag behind, slowed by my aching feet and low spirits.

Something about watching the others interact reminded me of the camaraderie between Soltair and Trithe. Even the way Sorrin and Tana brushed shoulders was the same, giving hints something greater might be going on between them. I’d been far too worried about myself to even think of them like that, though I supposed it made sense.

Mostly though, I just felt lonely. Once again, I was the outsider in the group, destined to live on the outside. Soltair and Trithe had become close friends by the time he saved me, and this seemed no different.

Perhaps there was some hope, though. My fate had come to pass, albeit in a different direction than I anticipated. I was now free and unfettered, able to choose which path to walk on my own. And until my soul healed, it would be here, with the Glory Chasers.