The Forsaken Hero

”Sorra, they’re just stalling. Let’s just kill the knight and take the girl,” one of the armored adventurers said.

Another, this one a seventh-level mage, nodded. ”The Justice Hero is taking too long with that demon. It’s only sixth level, but highly skilled and able might exploit our hero’s inexperience. We should clean things up here and support him before any reinforcements arrive.”

The second was an older man, seeming out of place among the younger adventurers. I had no memory of seeing him before, and from the way he spoke about the hero, he clearly had no personal attachment to him. He was the only one strong enough to have cast that seventh-level Judgment spell and probably wasn’t a permanent member of their party. Had they taken him from the front lines of the army to ensure the success of the mission?

”Luxxa,” I said nervously, ”Where are the others?”

She responded without turning around, keeping her gaze fixed on the Justice Hero’s party. ”Don’t know. I was the closest to the blast, so they must have survived, but beyond that...”

I nodded, and tightened my grip on Fable’s neck. ”Fable,” I whispered, ”Can you use the Oracle of Eternity again?

He shook his head, sending a ripple through his long silver fur. I sighed and leaned back, expecting as much but still disappointed. He’d only ever been able to borrow a portion of my power, and doing so put a burden on me as well.

”Then I suppose I’ll have to take part in this battle. Link Ability!”

Luxxa frowned and started to turn her head, likely planning on rebuking my recklessness. But Link Ability was only a third-circle spell, technically within the safety parameters set by Elinore. And it wasn’t that I couldn’t cast powerful spells; it would just be perilous. In my current state, shaken as I was, I should be able to get away with a few fifth-circle spells. Maybe even a sixth-circle array, if I were lucky.

My spell came right in time, because the party heeded the experienced Law Mage’s advice and attacked.

”Sunstrike!” Sorra called, having completed the chant under her breath.

A fifth-level mote of sun magic blasted out of the priest’s staff, streaking toward us like a miniature meteor. Luxxa caught in on her shield, grunting as it detonated in a blinding explosion of light and fire.

Sorra’s triumphant grin faded as we emerged unscathed from the holy cloud of light, protected by Adaptive Resistance.

”I’ll take the knight; you capture that slut!” one of the armored men shouted to the other.

The two charged at us, but I was grateful to see Luxxa had no intention of following their script. At the speed a sixth-level warrior could advance, we lacked the time for a spell, but she took a deep breath and gathered her mana anyway.

”Frenzy Vines!”

Throughout the past weeks of travel, she’d relentlessly pursued learning Korra’s combat arts. When she came to me for help converting some of her spells into arts, I was more than happy to oblige. Researching new magic arts had provided a welcome diversion from the pain and monotony of the journey. Besides, my soul’s current state prevented me from doing any real study or training, and this way, I could finally feel helpful.

The effects of our hard work were put on display before our eyes. Thick vines and roots erupted from the ground, swiping at the two adventurers. One was a berserker-type fighter with light armor and a massive axe. He was at least seven feet tall and broad as an ox, the type who traded any kind of dexterity for raw strength. The style may have worked against giant, powerful monsters, but it left him vulnerable to the agile advance of the flora.

The grasping vines slapped across his flesh loudly, binding to his limbs, torso, and neck. He grunted and strained, tearing himself free one vine at a time. Individually, they were no match for his strength, but the sheer number was overwhelming, directly breaking his charge.

The other warrior had more success, being much more agile. He dodged enough of the tendrils to keep moving, and he cut any of those he couldn’t rip free of with his sword. His progress was halted nonetheless when Luxxa met him at the edge of her magical art, blocking his advance with her shield. She struck with a fifth-level magical technique and drove him back into the vines.

Another beam of light shot over the ground and enveloped Luxxa again but failed to penetrate my ability. Sorra frowned at the futility of her magic, and her gaze shifted to me. She tried casting another fifth-circle Sunstrike at me, but Fable evaded it with ease. Her next one landed close to us, catching us in the explosion. Her triumph faded into frustration as the magic failed to so much as singe my clothing, though I did wince as it resonated with the sunpurge.

”What the hell is wrong with them?” she muttered, gritting her teeth. ”Xander, can you do anything?”

The older mage shook his head. ”I used most of my mana in our initial strike and need a second to recover before I cast anything strong enough to break her ability. It’s truly troublesome, but we have the advantage.”

I frowned at his words, watching the fight between Luxxa and the two adventurers with growing unease. She had only recently broken into sixth level and hadn’t mastered magical arts yet. They gave her an overwhelming advantage, the point she could contend with two experienced fighters stronger than her, but they were slowly pushing her back.

The warrior with the axe had finally managed to free himself and was assaulting her with powerful, crushing strikes. They landed on her shield with a loud clang, releasing small concussive waves with each strike. The other had managed to escape her containment and maneuver himself to flank her. He used a fourth-level technique and stabbed her back, forcing her to turn her shield to block it.

But that gave the berserker the opportunity he was waiting for. With a furious shout, he raised his axe high over his head and released all the mana he’d been holding. The sudden rush of power gathered into the crescent moon blade, growing so dense that the air around the steel wavered like it was underwater.

It happened in a single, picturesque frame. One moment, the axe was raised high; the next, it was buried in the ground. It moved so quickly that there weren’t even afterimages, just a long, white line of glowing energy in its wake. I hadn’t seen the attack, and only got a glimpse of Luxxa before the world turned white. I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like she had somehow thrown herself out of the way.

The resulting explosion and concussive shockwave were subdued compared to the previous Judgment spell, but the berserker’s technique was far more concentrated. The ground shook and split asunder, a terrible chasm opening up beneath the axe. Dust and debris rose into the air, flowing like a pyroclastic cloud.

At the same time, the middle-aged mage finished an incantation. I’d been so caught up in the fight, worried sick for Luxxa, that I hadn’t even noticed him start. And now it was too late.

Six magic circles materialized around where Luxxa had fallen, rapidly spinning as they rose and expanded high into the sky. A dense ball of clouds formed in the center, crackling with lightning and furious with winds. In the space of a single breath, the spell resolved, and the circles disappeared. The ball of clouds descended to the earth like a meteor, slamming down directly between Luxxa and the berserker.

The sphere exploded on impact with the ground, filling the air with flashing lightning and wind blades. It expanded quickly, flowing like a pyroclastic cloud, swallowing the berserker, the other adventurer, and Luxxa. My last glimpse of the female knight was of her struggling to her knees, resting heavily on her sword and clutching at a deep wound in her side.

My heart sank as I saw the severity of the injury. In my heart, I’d hoped she’d escaped the attack altogether, but the berserker’s axe had caught her a glancing blow.

She caught my gaze and smiled, a faint, sad smile, before the tempest enveloped her.

”Luxxa!” I screamed.

My hand groped blindly toward her as if I could pull her from the storm, then fell futile at my side. Tears filled my eyes, and I bit my lip, holding back a sob. The storm wasn’t fatal, not to someone of her level, but that mage hadn’t cast it for no reason.

Indeed, as expected of a seasoned, powerful party, I could sense the souls of the other two adventurers move toward Luxxa. In the seconds before the storm reached me, several more explosions and massive waves of mana erupted from the battlefield. It was two-on-one, and Luxxa was hurt and alone, isolated from even my supporting presence.

Before I could react, much less form a plan to save her, the descending storm wall slammed into us. It struck with tangible force, clawing at my body and filling my ears with a droning howl. Fable curled around me tightly, and I buried my face in my arms, shielding my face from the cruel, tearing winds and my ears from the noise.

The secondary effects of the magical technique were significantly weaker than the initial impact, but a few gales still carried enough power to make it past Adaptive Resistance. Fable protected me from the worst of it, but a few errant wind blades slashed at my exposed flesh.

I whimpered as a searing line of agony cut across my thigh, then another on my ribs. Several more wind blades connected in the following seconds, lashing against us like cruel whips. The cuts weren’t deep, but they stung and bled profusely. Fable purposefully adjusted to receive some of the blades, each of which proved strong enough to cut through his fur and deep into his flesh. The blood that seeped from our wounds was torn away by the winds, splattering across my flapping hair, clothes, and Fable’s silver fur.

The storm had just begun to slow when a final wind blade landed on my shoulder. Directly on the Sunpurge.

Before the pain even hit, a violent shudder shook my body and set my tail twitching. I bit my lip and closed my eyes, bracing myself against Fable. The last thing I felt was the dull heat of blood splattering across my face. My blood.

The world filled with fire, a searing, agonizing pain that took me back to the cruel torture at the hands of Lord Byron. There was a distant scream in my ears that sounded like my own, but nothing mattered except the pain. It was a blessing, really, when my mind finally collapsed and everything went dark.