The Forsaken Hero

The time after my unsettling visit to Haven passed in a blur, the days bleeding into one another. Now that I had a glimpse of the looming threat, I spent every spare moment poring over my collection of tomes, searching for potential solutions.

Thron had left me a wealth of information, but most of it was geared towards helping me reach the eighth level. While it expanded my knowledge of magic significantly, much of it wasn’t directly applicable to our current predicament and the dangers awaiting us in Brithlite. Instead, the texts covered new runes, advanced magic circle formations, and, most intriguingly, how to cast sixth-circle and above spells with additional circles.

The concept was familiar, echoing the arrays I’d invented at lower levels, but the execution was entirely different. It reminded me of the teachings I’d received from the ninth-level mage at Western University that all spells above the sixth circle were fundamentally similar. Theoretically, I could even upgrade Nexus into a seventh-circle spell, allowing me to link far more than the current three-hundred soul limit.

That idea was certainly intriguing, but making such modifications would require too much of the precious time I had left. At our current pace, we would reach Brithlite in just over two weeks. With the clock ticking, I had to focus on the most effective solutions to the immediate problem.

I started with the spell Distortion, which I’d cast for the first time outside of practice in Haven. It was a seventh-circle spell that manipulated the very fabric of space, stretching or compressing it without altering the actual physical distance. In essence, it could drastically slow down or speed up movement, depending on the variation I cast.

While undeniably powerful, Distortion had a limited range of a few hundred yards and the unfortunate side effect of affecting both allies and enemies. Moreover, it could be overpowered by sufficiently strong spells, arts, or techniques, like the Remnant’s attack. As far as I could tell, that strange assault had neared the peak of seventh-level power, providing me with a clear boundary to work within.

Intriguing as it was, Distortion held little promise for our current situation. I dug through my spatial ring, my fingers searching for a solution amongst the countless treasures within. They closed around a thick, dusty tome. It had an ancient, leather-bound cover and carried the distinctive musty scent of books confined to the restricted section of the library. I’d never been able to visit that hallowed space myself, but Thron had occasionally brought me texts from its depths.

A sigh escaped my lips as I habitually brushed invisible dust from the cover. I’d been studying this one for hours every day since my vision, but it still felt old and grimy. But, even so, it was the rarest book in my small collection, the crowning gift from Thron.

Absentmindedly, I slipped his letter from my ring and unfolded it, my eyes tracing the familiar words I’d long since memorized. The fold lines were worn to the point of tearing, the parchment soft and feathery in my hands. It was a treasure I held as dear as the flower wreath and the brooch from the Glory Chasers, tangible symbols of those who had helped me reach this point.

”What’s that?” Sari’s curious voice startled me from my reverie.

I jerked up, hastily wiping away a stray tear, and tucked the letter away. ”Um, nothing,” I stammered. ”Just a letter from a...a friend.”

I briefly wondered whether Thron would consider me a friend, given the vast gulf of age and experience between us, but I quickly pushed the thought aside. I didn’t even know if he was still alive, but from the words he’d left me, I felt safe assuming at least that much. And besides that, it just felt right.

Sari leaned over, her eyes widening as she spotted the book in my lap. ”Whoa, I’ve never seen a book that old before,” she exclaimed. ”What is it?”

I lifted the cover, reading the title embossed on the aged leather. ”It’s from an age long passed when fate magic wasn’t quite as persecuted as it is now. It’s so old because they don’t make copies like this anymore. I think it’s an original.”

She mouthed the title silently, sounding out the ancient runes it was written in before she looked up and tilted her head in confusion. ”Grand Aegis? Is that like your other spell?”

I smiled faintly, running a hand over the worn, feathery pages. ”Something like that, ”though this one’s a lot more, well...grand.”

She giggled at that and went back to practicing her own magic. I watched her for a moment, a small smile playing on my lips. She’d found a few other mages willing to teach her some simple enchantments and hadn’t stopped practicing since. It was heartwarming to see someone so dedicated to something they loved without considering how it could be used for violence or destruction. A rarity in these dark times, for sure.

Just like that, the rest of our journey flew by. As the sun dipped low on the final day, casting a golden glow across the land, Bethiv called for a halt, and the Last Light Company set up camp. Brithlite glittered like a distant jewel on the horizon, surrounded by thousands of flickering dots of light - the campfires of the armies amassed to defend her.

”I thought our army was impressive,” Korra murmured, joining me as I gazed at the distant city.

I nodded, then jumped slightly as Gayron scoffed behind me. Of course he had come with her. The two were rarely separate now.

”This meager group?” Gayron asked, gesturing derisively at the last Light Company arrayed around us. ”It’s barely twenty thousand. I was commanding that many when I was fourth-level.”

Korra’s lip curled in a smug grin, and she raised an eyebrow provocatively. ”And how’d that go? Last I checked, you ended up losing to a hero who couldn’t even attack. Twice now, if I recall correctly, and the first time you had a full level advantage.”

”Korra, Gayron, please,” I said softly, looking at them pleadingly.

She sighed, and Gayron rolled his eyes, but neither continued their argument.

”Sorry,” Korra apologized, tucking a strand of short, brown hair behind her ear. ”It’s just our way of dealing with the stress. We’re both going to be fighting our old companions, after all.”

”You are?” I asked, looking at Gayron with wide eyes. ”But why would you do that...?”

He shrugged, avoiding my gaze. ”I feel like it, that’s all.”

”Oh, don’t be so cryptic,” Korra said, nudging him playfully. When he grumbled and pushed her arm away, she grinned at me. ”This is his chance to repay you for healing his soul.”

”Korra!” He glared at her, then huffed and folded his arms. ”Fine, I guess that’s part of it. Don’t expect any more favors out of me after tomorrow.”

I returned my gaze to the distant city, idly stroking Fable’s head. After a moment, I sighed and let my hand fall limply into my lap.

”There are three of them here,” I said softly, just loud enough for them to hear.

”Three? Three heroes?” Korra asked, her voice laced with surprise.

I nodded. ”Sort of. Grace is there, and R’lissea. I think, um, Verity might be as well.”

”How could you know that? You haven’t been sneaking off to Haven again, have you?” she asked, a hint of reproach in her voice.

My hands tightened in my lap, and I looked away. She’d given me quite the lecture when she’d found out where I’d gone that night and how dangerous it had been. And if that hadn’t been enough, Elinore had followed up right after. It had taken an hour for my head to stop spinning.

”No,” I replied meekly, ”just fragments, here and there. Nothing clear, but enough.”

”And Jessia?” Gayron inquired.

I hesitated, my grip on my skirt tightening. ”Nothing beyond the first time when I discovered their magical device. I can’t even say for sure that was her, but I can’t think of who else Alverin would take counsel from.”

”Yeah, that’s probably her,” Gayron said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. ”She’s always liked worming her way into high places. I think she gets a kick out of manipulating those with power.”

We talked, just the three of us, for a while longer, going over our plans for the coming battle. When the last vestiges of daylight faded, I excused myself and returned to my tent. Korra and Gayron remained on the hill, sitting side-by-side, gazing at the stars. They were close enough that their hands could have touched; for all I knew, they already were.

”Repaying his debt?” I mumbled to myself, rubbing my horn in disbelief. Only an idiot would believe that was the sole reason he was still with us.

”What was that?” Luxxa’s voice startled me from my thoughts. She stood guard outside my tent, her silhouette stark against the starlight.

I jumped slightly, grateful for the darkness that hid my blush. ”N-nothing,” I stammered, ”just thinking aloud.”

She smiled, a gesture that seemed to soften her usual stern demeanor. ”I’m just glad to see you in high spirits. It can’t be easy, facing the one who’s hurt you so much.”

”I will do what I must, for as long as I can,” I replied, my voice firm, but a tremor betrayed the underlying sadness.

She must have sensed the resignation in my words, because her smile faded, and she leaned closer, her eyes searching mine. ”Is it really that bad? Can’t Elinore do anything?”

I shook my head, my heart heavy. ”No one can. Sunpurge has been incurable since the first recorded case. And please, don’t tell Korra. Or Sari. Knowing would only burden them.”

”Don’t they know already?”

”I’ve... kept the full extent from them. They just think it’s a little worse than before, not spreading everywhere.”

Her voice turned grave. ”Are you sure that’s a good idea? All things in shadow must eventually be brought to light.”

”It will be,” I murmured, absently rubbing my arm just below the sunpurge’s reach. ”It will be.”