The Forsaken Hero

Slowly, the evening wore on, and the sun, a ball of light filtering through the white canvas of my tent, dipped behind the mountains. The setting sun bathed the tent in a warm red glow before fading completely, leaving us in darkness. Sari eagerly demonstrated her light magic once again, but Elinore soon gently ushered her away.

”Bye, Xiviyah! I’ll visit tomorrow!” Sari said as the life mage pushed her outside.

I waved with a gentle laugh, but my smile faded the moment she was gone. It had been wonderful to see and speak with her, but I wished I could have seen Korra. But she hadn’t come by.

Perhaps that was for the best, as I had no doubt she’d greet me with the same boundless enthusiasm as Sari, and I wasn’t sure I could hold back tears the next time someone threw their arms around me. The thought of being unable to embrace her filled me with a sense of longing and loneliness, but the ever-present pain from the sunpurge made the prospect of hugging anyone seem daunting.

The thoughts faded as I snuggled against Fable, letting myself sink into the waiting darkness. There were a hundred things I wanted to try to know that my soul was healed, but first, I needed sleep.

As soon as I drifted off, I opened my eyes and found myself in...my tent? Blinking away sleep, I stretched and yawned, hardly daring to believe it: no dreams, no visions, and no nightmares. The sunpurge growled distantly, yet I felt a thousand times better. The constant ache and soreness were gone, and my mind felt clear and awake. It was the best I’d felt since shattering my soul, or even maybe as far back as before Soltair first afflicted me with Sunpurge.

”Good morning,” Elinore said. I glanced at her, startled. She sat in the same position she’d been in when I’d fallen asleep. Had she even moved at all?

Smiling faintly, the Life Mage extended a cup of tea. Steam curled off the glimmering surface of the cup, and I could just make out faint strands of mana woven through the fluid. I glanced at her, tail twitching in confusion, but she just smiled.

”Drink.”

Nodding, I gingerly took the cup and raised it to my lips. The moment the tea washed across my tongue, my tail stiffened, and my entire face scrunched up. I jerked it away, spluttering violently.

”Bitter!”

It was the only word I could think of to adequately describe the flavor. Just imagining it curled my toes and set my tail twitching.

Elinore’s gaze sharpened. ”Drink it, Xiviyah. Or I won’t let you outside this tent.”

That did it. Lowering my gaze meekly, I forced myself to take another sip. Perhaps now that I adjusted to it, I could handle it–

I gagged again, my body instinctively rejecting the tea. But with my freedom hanging in the balance, I couldn’t back down. Elinore rarely made idle threats, and even Korra would respect her wishes.

Ten minutes. That’s how long it took me to force down a single cup of tea. With tears streaming down my face and my lips permanently puckered in disgust, I proudly presented her with the empty cup.

”Was that so bad?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

”Yes!” I nodded emphatically. ”Yes, it was. I don’t care if it’s supposed to help the sunpurge; please, don’t make me drink that again.”

She huffed, rolling her eyes. ”It can’t be that bad. R’li–my master said she drank it herself.”

I glanced at Elinore, tilting my head slightly. She was usually so eloquent; it was odd for her to stumble over her words. ”She must be a ninth-level warrior then. I don’t think anyone else could handle it.”

”Hmm, that might actually have something to do with it,” she replied thoughtfully. ”Perhaps your weakened physique leaves you extra vulnerable to the magic-infused in the potion, not to mention the rather pungent herbal ingredients most anyone above the third level wouldn’t even notice. She claimed it was supposed to taste like a milkshake, whatever that is.”

I smiled as she shook her head, and, with Fable’s support, I rose to my feet. My legs were wobbly, weakened from a week of inactivity, but after a few moments, I stood on my own. As I stretched, pushing my hands high over my head, a gentle warmth blossomed in my stomach and spread through my body. The dull ache of the sunpurge receded, and even the thin scar on my side felt more like a touch of warm ash than a burning coal.

I shivered as the heat turned tingly, driving a restless sort of energy into my muscles. ”Well, I feel something. You can tell your master it seems to work. I haven’t felt this way since...well, ever, I think. I feel like I could run an entire mile, or maybe even–”

”That’s enough of that. It doesn’t matter how you feel, and I won’t have you doing anything strenuous like that. If you want to run or climb a mountain, ride that beast of a wolf you have,” she gave me a stern look before her face softened again. ”To be honest, I was expecting you to be in much worse shape.”

”I won’t complain. It’s nice to walk without hurting,” I said.

I glanced up at the sun, which had just broken over the mountains and appeared as a small ball of light on the canvas ceiling. A sudden desire for fresh air and the open sky rose within me, and I stepped toward the tent flap, reaching to brush it aside. Before my hand touched the canvas, Fable rose behind me and stalked over, nudging my uninjured side with his head. For a second, I thought he wanted me to pet him, and I squeaked as he gently gripped my nightdress in his mouth, tugging at it.

”Stop that!” I scolded, smacking him even though I knew he probably wouldn’t even feel it.

Elinore sighed hard enough I knew she was rolling her eyes without even looking. ”You were about to leave, weren’t you? Perhaps he just wanted to remind you to wear a decent dress before walking out. I’ve heard it wouldn’t be the first–”

”Okay, I get it!” I said, blushing furiously. Fable let me go with a self-satisfied grunt and padded over the door, lying in front of it and watching me intently.

Still blushing, I tapped my spatial ring and quickly searched through my few garments. I settled on a soft, white, off-shoulder dress with faint gold embroidery around the hem and sleeves. It had been a gift from Tana before I left the village. Elinore helped me with the ribbon sash around my waist, adjusting it so it was just loose enough to avoid inflaming the sunpurge.

”Would you like me to help you with your hair?” Elinore offered.

I nodded and reached for a brush, but she gave me a knowing smile, comb already in hand. When she finished, I summoned a magical mirror with a wave, doing a little twirl in front of it. As I came to rest, my skirt settling around my knees, a thought struck me.

Reaching into my spatial ring once more, I withdrew a different wreath of beautiful flowers, these with a reddish taint on the delicate lip of each blossom. Faint ribbons of mana curled around the stems and flowers, preserving them as fresh as the day I’d picked them.

A soft smile lingered on my lips as I gingerly slipped the wreath over my horns. I’d often thought of wearing it, longing for a touch of the cheer I’d felt back in Westfall Village. Things had been dark and bleak since then, especially after learning of Elise’s enslavement, but today my heart felt uncharacteristically light and hopeful. I had saved Sari and healed my soul. Now, it was Elise’s turn, and for that, I needed all the hope I could muster.

With a small, shy curtsy and a heartfelt smile, I thanked Elinore and turned to go, only to have her gently catch my sleeve.

”Remember, we still don’t fully understand the effects of the sunpurge. Your seeming recovery might be linked to your strengthened soul, as I mentioned before, but the relationship between the sunpurge and your soul remains unclear. Please, be careful. The tea is only intended to ease the chronic ache of the sunpurge, and overexerting yourself can still set it off.”

”Thank you, Elinore,” I replied, my tone sobering to assure her I wasn’t brushing off her concerns. ”I’ll be careful.”

Fable and I left the healer behind, stepping out into the radiant morning light. The first thing to strike was the clear blue sky, as vast and endless as the ocean itself. The second was the sun’s warmth on my face, a gentle, autumnal heat foreign to the Ice Spirit’s influence. And the third, most surprising of all, was the feel of grass beneath my bare feet. Grass, not snow.