The Forsaken Hero

The world filled with fire, blinding, voracious flames that burned so hot the sun itself felt dim. The ground trembled as the rampaging fire collected into meteors and began their descent, raining toward the city in an endless wave of death. The earth trembled at their coming, and the air shimmered with heat, the sky a swirling mass of black smoke and crimson light.

The flames reflected in my eyes, glistening curls of death, as I desperately searched the rubble from atop Fable’s back. Where had we left Korra? It hadn’t been too far, had it?

The first meteor landed some distance away, directly atop the square the spirit and inquisitor had been fighting. A wave of heat and crimson light flowed over us, traveling away from the epicenter. The blast ignited clothing, curtains, and wooden structures, filling the air with acrid, black smoke. The shockwave followed a moment later, breaking on the Aegis I hastily erected. Between Adaptive Resistance and my powerful soul, most magical shockwaves were negligible, but this one was a pure concussive force generated by the explosion. With my cursed body, a direct hit from one of those would have me coughing blood.

Fable’s next step had purpose, taking us over a row of stalls to a sheltered alley, close to where the two were fighting. Another explosion rocked the earth as I found Korra leaning against the wall, her eyes closed and chest barely rising with each labored breath. A trickle of blood escaped the corner of her mouth. Black blood.

”Korra!” I swept her up in my arms, groaning as I heaved her weight onto Fable’s back. The moment we were both secure, her in my lap, Fable took off again. More flashes of light and sound detonated behind us, occurring with greater frequency until the air reverberated with continuous explosions. The noise and force were unbearable, and I was forced to cast a Sound Ward to protect my delicate hearing.

As I leaned over Fable’s neck, urging him faster, flickering, crimson light crept over us. Glancing over my shoulder, I shuddered to find a wall of flames roaring toward us. It swept over the streets and structures like floodwater, consuming everything in raging heat and fire. Somewhere, within that maelstrom, was the Ice Spirit. I had no idea if it were possible for a creature of cold to survive in such conditions, but somewhere, in the back of my soul, I could feel its presence. It was nestled away, much fainter yet firm and unwavering, like Fable’s bond.

The wall of fire loomed over us, licking at our heels. I cried out as it penetrated Adaptive Resistance, smothering us in withering heat. The air itself boiled, burning like fire in my throat, and my skin turned pink and began to blister. The tips of Fable’s fur curled inward, and the tone cracked and melted beneath his paws. Just as we were about to be consumed, he put on a final burst of speed.

And then we were free, tearing out of the flames and heat. The wall of fire fell behind us, having reached the limits of the spell. Tears of relief gathered in my eyes, and I gulped down mouthfuls of cool, soothing air. After catching my breath, I turned and looked over my shoulder at the devastation behind us.

Of the once proud city, only a hellscape, a charred skeleton, remained. Homes, businesses, and shops burned, reduced to hollow, blackened husks leaning against one another like rows of dilapidated tombstones. Smoldering heaps of rubble choked the streets, glowing red-hot, and flames still flickered on whatever hadn’t been totally consumed. The air was eerily silent save the crackle of decaying embers and the distant howl of the wind.

As I took in the damage, my tail drooped and my grip on Fable’s fur tightened. Nearly half of the city had been swallowed up in the Explosive Cascade, including much of the residential housing. Just how many had perished in the flames? How many more would die as their homes burned around them or collapsed, burying them in rubble? Why had the inquisitor done this? Was my life really worth all of this?

My only hope was that Orion and Joel had been able to evacuate most of the people in time. During our flight, I’d caught glimpses of stragglers here and there, their screams vanishing in the flames, but most of the city seemed abandoned. Even now, as we raced toward the district where Levin’s inn was, there were only a handful of panicked humans. They scrambled out of the way with terror in their eyes, faces haunted by the hell they had just witnessed.

”Hold on,” I whispered to Korra, pulling her close against my chest. ”He’s going to save you. He promised!”

I didn’t know how I would manage to adapt Link Ability, not when my mind and heart raced with adrenaline and fear, yet I would. I had to. She didn’t have much time left.

As Fable leaped over a row of houses, my mana tingled dangerously. I had just enough time to cry out before a surge of fire swept past us, drawing a line from the center of the city and crashing up against the walls. Another sixth-circle spell. Had I not managed to warn Fable, we would have been caught up in the midst of it.

It was impossible to tell whether we’d been the intended targets or caught up in the crossfire. It didn’t matter, either. For some strange, indecipherable reason, I trusted the Ice Spirit. There was something about him that reminded me of Fable, of myself, actually.

At last, after avoiding several more large-scale destruction spells and effects, Fable landed before the inn. Many of the windows had shattered, and the roof smoldered with glittering embers, but my gaze was drawn to the man standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. Fable collapsed, exhausted and wounded, so I slid off his back with Korra in my arms.

”Levin! I found her!”

Every step sent pain shooting through my side, but I stumbled toward it regardless. I half-hoped he would run to meet me and take Korra, relieving me of the burden, but he just stared at me, his expression indecipherable. The shockwave from an explosion a few blocks away caught me mid-step, and I dropped to my knees, cradling Korra and weeping as a burst of pain swept through my veins. The Sunpurge hurt so badly I wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear, but I just hugged Kora tighter, enduring the pain until it finally faded. Slowly, still panting for breath, I looked up into Levin’s face and found him grimacing, his hands clenched in fists.

”Hells, Xiviyah. Just what have you done?” he finally asked.

The condemnation in his voice was cold and ruthless, sending a chill down my spine and tail. His response set my tail flicking anxiously, but I held fast to the small hope within me. He had promised, right? ”Levin, I...I brought Korra, just like we said. Please, I need your help. I can cast the spell, but it’s going to be difficult. Please, just–”

”How many died?” he asked bleakly, glaring at me. ”Gods, perhaps that damned inquisitor is right.”

I opened my mouth and tried to speak, to explain myself, but my throat tightened painfully, choking out my words. He wasn’t offering me a hand, or even looking at Korra. Why wasn’t he helping? He had promised!

”Please...” I whispered, ”You just need to let me use your soul. I can still save her!”

”She’s gone, Xiviyah. And perhaps...” he hesitated, squeezing his fists until his nails dug into his palms, ”Perhaps...perhaps you should be too. You can’t help us anymore, if you ever could at all. Your selfishness and delusion are hurting people, Xiviyah. Look around us! Is this what you wanted? Has your demon blood finally taken control?”

I gasped, memories flitting through my mind. In the banquet at the Divine Throne, before we first left on our adventure, the other heroes had worried my blood would corrupt me to be as evil and bloodthirsty as the other demonkin. I shook my head vehemently and gripped Korra’s shoulders tightly. ”I-it wasn’t me! The inquisitor cast–”

But Levin wasn’t listening. He had a faraway look in his eye, the same expression Soltair wore when he was considering something heroic. When he finally looked down at me again, the reluctance was gone, replaced by conviction.

”I was a fool to have trusted you,” he said, unfolding his arms and loosening his stance, ”But I’d forgotten what Connor said. A soul blacker than a demon’s, the source of countless calamities just like this one. I can’t let you kill anyone else, Xiviyah. I won’t let you.”

Another explosion rocked the earth, followed by a shockwave of ice. My tail didn’t even flinch, just lay limply on the ground as I stared up at the Earth Hero in disbelief. His words through my mind over and over, but refused to process. Slowly, despair and darkness overshadowed my heart and mind until everything grew dim and gray, as it had the moment Aurle died, and when the foxkin twins were captured.

It was the same as before, the same as every time I allowed myself to hope. The inevitable end to every time I allowed the light in.

Betrayal.