The Forsaken Hero

There were five other soldiers, one sixth-level, the other four all third-level, standing in the intersection where the path turned to ascend the chasm. They jumped at the first’s words, shock flashing across their faces, before standing at attention and snapping a salute.

”You’ve returned!” the sixth-level woman said. Her short brown hair was streaked with gray, and she seemed familiar, though I couldn’t place where I’d met her. She caught me staring and smiled faintly, giving a little bow. ”The name’s Annette; we fought together in Bluegate Keep. I was assigned to guard this portion of the chasm in case the demons tried anything funny. The rest of these young-uns were displaced when their squad leader was slain clearing the cavern of the remaining demon forces, so I took them under my wing and let them stand guard. I hope you don’t mind.”

I blinked at the tirade of information, finally holding up a hand and stopping her. ”It’s fine. Really. Thank you for protecting me. And it’s Xiviyah, please.”

She nodded. ”Simply doing my duty, my Lady–I mean, um, X-Xiviyah.”

”Where is Commander Bethiv?”

She pointed up the chasm. ”Up there. Would you allow us to join your guard and escort you to the surface?”

I nodded, and the soldiers enthusiastically sprang into action, forming a sort of honor guard around me. They knew as well as I that it was purely for show, for anyone who dared attack me would have to get past Fable and the ice spirit first. What could a handful of low-level soldiers do against that?

But I didn’t mind in the slightest. If anything, the creak of their armor and heavy breathing were comforting, taking us out of the unnerving silence that marked the way thus far. As we rose up the chasm, our party grew larger and larger as more soldiers joined us. With every additional group, I looked eagerly for the Star Guard, wanting to ensure their safety, but I was left disappointed.

Snow fell lightly from the cloud-stained sky as we crested the final switchback leading out of the chasm. A shattered world met my eyes, riddled with craters, broken with cracks, and flowing red with blood. Tens of thousands of corpses were strewn about the war torn tundra, most blown to pieces in a battle that far outstripped their abilities. Many of the bodies bore more than one mortal wound and held a fading black mist, signs they’d been appropriated by Connor after their first death.

It was a horrifying sight, one I saw reflected in the eyes of the soldiers stationed there to meet us. In the time since the battle ended, the entire Last Light Company had gathered from the far reaches of the gate and were dug into defensive positions surrounding the chasm. Commander Bethiv stood with Korra at his side at the front, staring down a massive horde of demons. To my relief, the rest of the Star Guard was there as well, as were a number of other sixth-level soldiers and mages.

Korra turned as we exited the chasm, alerted by the noise our small army made. Her initial curiosity turned to excitement as she saw me riding atop Fable and then to worry at my drawn and harried appearance.

”Xiviyah!” she cried, closing the distance between us in a single, superhuman leap.

I offered her a small, tired smile and slid off Fable’s back. It was my intention to summon my staff to support myself, but she was there first, sweeping me up in a smothering embrace.

”K-Korra...can’t...breathe...” I choked, tapping her back with as much strength as I could muster.

She quickly loosened her grip, grinning sheepishly. ”Sorry, it’s just been so long. We hadn’t heard anything for almost an entire day, and he wouldn’t let anyone near you!”

I followed her gesture to where the ice spirit hovered in the sky and could only shake my head. ”I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you, but...well, I’m just glad it’s done. But what’s going on here? Why are there still so many demons?”

”Probably because of him,” she said, jerking her head toward a pile of scales and claws heaped on the ground beside Bethiv.

I jumped as soon as I saw it, instinctively reaching for my mana. Gayron lay limp and defeated, his demonic body sprawled across the ground. I couldn’t see his face, but one of his claws rested atop his chest, the curved claws glistening with human blood. Orion’s blood.

”Is he...dead?” I asked in a small voice, clutching my hands together.

Korra snorted. ”Unfortunately, no.”

My tail stiffened, and I gave her an incredulous look. ”You actually left him alive? Isn’t that supposed to be even harder than just killing him?”

”It wasn’t too bad,” she said, inspecting her nails. The casual attitude did little to hide the proud gleam in her eye. ”Or rather, it wasn’t after I broke through to seventh, at least. This bastard’s nothing more than a pile of walking muscles and abilities, absolutely no finesse or talent of his own to speak of.”

”Not everyone’s had the advantage of leveling up twice, you know,” Bethiv said, walking over to join us. ”And you even turned in your divine artifact too, forcing you to learn to rely on your abilities. But even so, I have to admit you’re very skilled in this, uh...monk...style of yours.”

She preened, watching me out of the corner of her eye. Smothering a smile, I nodded.

”Thank you, Korra, you’re incredible. I still can’t believe you actually defeated him. Thank you.”

Her grin grew wider, though she covered it by flicking her head back and tossing her hair out of her face. ”Just doing what I had to.”

Though she feigned modesty, it was clear Korra was proud of herself. She had every right to be, too, defeating an apostle an entire level higher than her.

Bethiv chuckled and shook his head wryly, before turning to appraise me. ”And you, Xiviyah? I trust your efforts were a success?”

”They were, thanks to you and your soldiers. My soul has fully recovered to the beginning stages of the seventh level. But what are we supposed to do with the demons?”

He frowned, glancing at the hordes of demons coating the far side of the tundra. ”Honestly, we could probably just cut a path right through them. They have numbers, but the actual quality of their army is no different than the one this bastard led,” he said, kicking Gayron’s limp body.

The apostle groaned at that. His soul felt unusually bright for one so apparently defeated, and I found it odd that he hadn’t reverted to his demonkin form. But at the same time, he hadn’t attacked, so it was probably fine.

”I don’t like it,” Korra said, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. While our elite would certainly survive, we would lose too many. And I don’t want to trust my back to the demons hanging out with us.” She gestured to where Kahlen and the other three demons stood beside the Last Light Company. They’ve been loyal so far, but...eh, I just don’t trust em.”

”I know, and we shouldn’t attack,” I added quickly. ”I don’t want anyone else to die.”

Bethiv opened his mouth to respond, likely to tell me about sacrifices in war again, but paused. His eyes narrowed toward the demon army, and his hand moved to his sword hilt. ”Seems like they want to make the first move. I’ll handle this, Xiviyah. It’s not the first time I’ve negotiated with an enemy.”

Two figures made their way from the tide of darkness opposite the gate. The first was a tall, handsome demonkin with short black hair and a thin white scar crossing the left side of his face. My eyes were drawn to the strong, graceful curve of his horn and the confident sway of his tail. It was Luke, Apostle of the Descent.

It took me a moment to notice the woman beside him. She was another demonkin, but unlike anyone I’d seen before. She was about as tall as Korra but more slender, lacking the muscle of a physical combatant. Her horns and tail were stark white, as were pupilless eyes. She wore robes darker even than Luke’s that absorbed the evening light without allowing a single glimmer to reflect back. It gave it a flat, textureless appearance that seemed almost hand-drawn rather than existing in reality.

Both had intricate, complex souls characteristic of a hero or apostle. Luke was in the beginning stages of the eighth level, the woman in the middle of the seventh. It should have been impossible for me to tell at such a great distance, but with my soul healed, my soul’s senses felt crisp and clear, putting them into focus. I could even make out the mana cycling through them, the tides moving in quick, agitated waves that revealed the wariness they kept hidden behind their smooth expressions.

”Greetings, Oracle,” Luke called when they were still some distance away. ”Forgive our rather intimidating appearance, I regret traveling with such a force, but I’m afraid these times call for such measure.”

”That’s far enough, apostle. Keep your distance,” Korra returned when they were twenty or so feet away. ”And save the pleasantries. You know as well as we that you sent this bastard ahead to secure the gate.”

She kicked Gayron, causing Luke to wince. Gayron didn’t respond this time, lying motionlessly on the ground. Had he fallen unconscious since Bethiv prodded him the last time? No, that couldn’t be right. His soul was still alive with mana, and he hadn’t reverted to his demon form either. Was he plotting something?

Sensing my unease, Fable trotted a few steps away from the fallen apostle, causing the others to cast me curious glances. I ignored them and drew myself up to my full height, which admittedly had little effect when I was resting on Fable, staring Luke in the eye.

”You actually came,” I said softly.

He leaned forward, his pointed ears twitching as they strained to catch my voice. ”Of course I did. You proved yourself when your power saved Evla,” he said, gesturing to the woman beside him. ”So, as you promised, I’ve come to receive a prophecy.”