The Forsaken Hero

The whole world stilled, the screams and rampaging mana falling into the background. Only Luke remained, his hand tilting my chin toward him, his eyes capturing me in their dark depths. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. All I could feel was the warmth of his hand on my cheek.

”Protect her?” Jessia’s snort snapped me back to reality. ”You won’t get much chance to do that, Luke. That mage is probably angry enough to tear the scales off a dragon.”

He winced, his gaze drawn to the chaos unfolding within the city walls. ”I suppose that’s true, but at least I know where you are.”

As his hand slipped from my cheek, a wave of dizziness washed over me. I stumbled back a step, legs quivering, and gasped for breath. My hand rose to my chest, pressing against the rapid pulse of my heart. After a moment, it rose to my cheek, tracing the faint, tingling warmth his touch had left behind.

”Just... stay safe. Please,” he whispered.

Elise grasped my hand, lacing her fingers with mine. ”We’ll make sure she doesn’t wander off. Now stop ogling and get going. You have to fight that mage still, remember?

Still glaring at him, she pulled me away from the apostle. I followed her lead listlessly, nearly walking right into Fable before realizing he was there. Elise waited for me to sink into his fur before releasing my hand, shifting ever so slightly to interpose herself between Luke and us.

Luke gazed at me a moment longer, not seeming to have noticed her, before blinking with a start. He coughed lightly, rubbing his chin, before nodding. ”I leave her in your care.”

He turned and, with a flourish, summoned his sword and staff. Black tendrils of curse magic rose around him like mist, sending a chill down my spine and causing me to shrink against Fable.

As he turned to go, my hand darted out to clutch at his sleeve. Elise gasped, staring at me, and Luke’s brow furrowed. Heat flooded my cheeks, and I quickly released him, hiding my hand behind my back.

”S-sorry,” I squeaked, wilting beneath their curious gazes. Fable’s tail rose to curl around me, pulling me against him.

His eyes dropped to his sleeve, still slightly rumpled from where I’d grasped it. ”Xiviyah?”

I whimpered, wishing I could bury myself in Fable’s fur and hide. ”I-I...um...be careful. And, um, could you find who cast the Heart Crest?”

His lip curled in an amused smile, but he gently shook his head. ”I’m afraid I won’t be able to do that. Even if you forced them to waste some mana, fighting an eighth-level mage will take everything I have. If I send the demons, they’re likely to slaughter everyone than search for the culprit.”

”Oh...” I slumped, hugging myself. ”But this time was different. What if they’re doing this everywhere?”

”I’ll take care of it, assuming you give me those little eyes of yours,” Jessia said, fluttering her eyelashes for emphasis. ”It’ll be impossible to trace the curse back to them otherwise, what with you destroying the whole city and all.”

”I didn’t destroy–” I bit my lip, realizing too late she was teasing me. ”F-fine...and thanks.”

I lowered my head and stepped back, soul casting a Nexus with the mana I had regenerated. Good thing I hadn’t wasted it on Verity. The disturbance in fate had already vanished, anyway.

”Thanks,” Luke said, blinking rapidly as he adjusted to his newly heightened perception.

He kicked off the edge of the ridge with a force that shattered the ground beneath him, soaring into the air. Jessia, in contrast, simply sprinted away, melting into the shadows despite the bright sun overhead. She vanished completely by the time she left the ridge, teleporting away.

Luke’s army moved at the same time, breaking out of their loose formation and charging after the apostle. I was relieved to see none headed for the city, though more than a few cast hungry gazes toward the fleeing refugees and soldiers.

I watched them go, my eyes tracing Luke as he arced through the air towards the fortress. He was a dark comet against the blue sky, trailing writhing curses in his wake. I shouldn’t have felt anything, he was an apostle, an enemy of this world, but a cold sense of dread crept down my spine and tail.

A wave of auras erupted from within the keep, joining the eighth-level mage. Several other powerful mages and warriors had survived the Mana Storm and now took their places amongst the crumbling battlements. They could have easily blended in with the fleeing soldiers and civilians, but they still chose to resist. Perhaps they thought they were buying time for the others to escape.

One small, unassuming figure dominated the fortress. He was dressed in plain red robes with little adornment, his staff a simple wooden rod banded with steel. But despite his appearance, my soul constricted as he raised his staff, releasing a devastating aura onto the battlefield. It dwarfed all others, even above Luke’s, rising near to the peak of the eighth level.

It struck the approaching demons like a physical wave, causing the evolved demons to flinch and throwing the weakest scions back a few dozen feet. They careened through the air, tumbling across the ground. When they finally came to a stop, they twitched and shuddered, failing to rise again.

The mage’s soul flared with blinding light, and close to thirty magic circles materialized in the air around him. A heartbeat later, he pointed his staff at Luke and unleashed a barrage of sixth-circle spells, each bearing a different elemental attribute. The pressure formed by the lightning bolts, ice lances, and blazing fireballs smothered the air, creating an attack far more devastating than any one individual spell.

Luke landed a split second before the spells landed and raised his staff. Several magic circles appeared around him, the beginnings of what I hoped to be a defensive spell. I had confidence in Adaptive Resistance, but witnessing the onslaught of magic caused my face to pale and my tail to twitch.

A fireball struck first, enveloping him in an explosion that turned the entire area into a raging sea of fire. Before the flames could even begin to fade, jagged ice lances pierced through the inferno, erupting in towering pillars of ice where Luke had been standing. More spells followed, transforming the earth into a crackling magical hellscape. A few demons unlucky enough to be caught in the crossfire were vaporized instantly, with more joining them as the explosions continued to spread outward.

”He’ll be fine,” R’lissea said, moving to stand beside me.

”I-I never said I he wasn’t,” I stammered, eyes darting around the maelstrom of spells, searching for a glimpse of even Luke’s shadow.

Elise tilted her head, searching my face. ”Wait, I thought...” She gasped, her eyes going wide. ”No way! You’re actually worried about him?”

I stared at my feet, acutely aware of my tail lashing at my feet. ”N-no, I just...I mean...”

R’lissea chuckled and turned, watching the explosions unfold. ”It’s alright, Xiviyah. We’re just teasing you.”

”Oh, come on,” Elise grumbled, shaking her head. ”Don’t spoil all the fun.”

”Perhaps,” the elf murmured, ”I’m glad you’re feeling up to teasing her, but let’s not forget how much is at stake here. If Luke dies or even loses, we’ll have to fight that mage ourselves.” Her voice hardened. ”Just as he uses us, we must use him.”

I flinched, stung by her words. He hadn’t used me; I was here because I chose to be. Right?

R’lissea’s small comment about Elise, however, was something I hadn’t even noticed in my... concern for Luke. Her little quips were a glimpse of the old Elise, something she would have said before the darkness of the Circle took her.

”But it worked, didn’t it?” Elise asked, nudging R’lissea with a grin. ”Her tail stopped twitching.”

I blushed even harder. ”That’s not fair!”

But it was true. Their laughter eased the tension that had been building within me. I finally allowed myself a small smile, my anxiety fading with each passing moment. Luke would be fine. He had to be.

But when the dust finally settled, and I caught a glimpse of Luke, I tensed right back up again. ”Idiot,” I whispered, biting my lip so hard I tasted blood.

He stood unprotected, the remnants of the mage’s attack swirling around him like a vengeful spirit. Letting out a defiant roar, he raised his staff and summoned seven circles of swirling darkness, completing a spell he’d cast within the cover of the explosions.

”Soul Break!”

The circles converged into a single point of concentrated power, unleashing a torrent of curse magic that ripped through the lingering smoke and debris, hurtling toward the unsuspecting mage.

The mage, blinded by his own arrogance, had clearly assumed Luke would cower behind defensive spells. He barely had time to react before the devastating curse struck, shattering his hastily erected wards.”