The Forsaken Hero

”Do I believe it?” Verity frowned, letting me go of my hands. ”Xiviyah, that’s not the question. I’ve searched dozens of futures, and this is the only way. Everything else leads to your death. There is no other hope for you to be free.”

I touched my chest, flinching at the feel of my fingers against the soft, unblemished skin. ”Free? As a slave?”

”The church may have dealt poorly with you in the past, but things are different now. The demons are strong, and they need every resource they can get. Now that you’re not a hero, it won’t be a problem for you to appear in public or use your powers to protect the innocent.”

My hand closed into a loose fist. ”Is that what they told you?”

She nodded. ”As painful as the past is, you can’t let that stop you from embracing the future. Hatred and revenge only lead to more darkness, and you’ve been there long enough. I can see it in your eyes. Aren’t you ready to move on, to forgive, and be free?”

I bit my lip, squeezing my eyes shut to hold back tears. ”I...don’t know if I can ever be free. I’ve tried so hard, but...no matter what, I always end up where I started.”

Her silver eyes glistened with pity. ”There’s hope in the future, for this world, and for you. As the Fate hero, it’s my job to share that hope, to show others the path forward.” She tilted her head, frowning. ”But... you know that. You once had the same calling. Didn’t you look ahead and view the things to come? Didn’t you see that no matter how dark it is, there’s always a light to come?”

”Not anymore,” I whispered, meeting her eyes. This time, it was she who squirmed, averting her gaze. ”There’s nothing in the future but pain. I’ve seen this war end hundreds, maybe thousands of times, and not once is there anything but darkness. Should the demons win, millions will perish, but if the gods win...”

”There will be peace,” she said.

I shook my head. ”There is no light without darkness. If the gods win, they will smother this world with the heart crest. There will be no more conflict, or sorrow, but also...no peace and joy. An empty, meaningless existence.”

”That’s not what it’s like!” she protested. ”The gods have no intention of ruling every thought and desire, only instilling a basis of piety and belief. There won’t be any more crime or suffering. It’s a perfect future.”

”Verity, have you spoken to one freed from a heart crest?” I whispered.

She shook her head, shifting on her knees.

”My friend, Elise...Alverin murdered her fiancé so he could rape and torture her without reproach, and she...she wanted it. Begged for it.”

She gasped. ”I--”

I sobbed, clenching my fists. ”You speak of moving on, of the light and hope to come, but...there is no light living as a slave. Even death is a mercy because it lets you leave this wretched world behind and be reborn somewhere else. Somewhere free of the gods’ taint.”

She flinched as if struck, but I pressed on. A single tear trickled down my cheek, my voice falling to a whisper.

”How can you ask me to forgive, knowing all that? Should I return to the ones who hurt me, expecting it to be different? Soltair sold me to a monster viler than any demon. Did he tell you that story, perhaps?”

Verity swallowed and shook her head. ”Only that the city was destroyed in an accident.”

”Accident?” I shook my head, no longer caring as tears streamed down my cheeks. ”Lord Byron...didn’t like to force his slaves to obey. When I wouldn’t allow him to...take me, he chose Aurle instead—the one who showed me kindness when no one else would. Day after day he brought her to his chambers and raped her. She...started to change. Every day her smile was a little smaller, her eyes hollow and dull. On the last night, she forced herself to smile and promised to see me in the morning. That was the last night I ever saw her smile, the last night she hugged me. That morning, he brought me a corpse, battered and bloody. And it was all my fault.”

Verity listened, eyes wide, hands trembling, as the story tumbled from my lips between sobs. It wasn’t the first time I’d managed to share it, but...it could never be easy.

”And you want me to forget her sacrifice,” I whispered, meeting her gaze. She flinched and averted her eyes, but I pressed on, ”Verity, there is no hope in the future. Not if the gods are there. They’ve been lying to you this whole time, hoping that, in your naivety, you could convince me to surrender myself.”

”It’s not true,” She whispered, on the edge of tears herself.

I reached out my hand, palm up, and summoned my staff. It fell into my grip in a shower of stars, pulsing warm, resonating with the raw emotion in my bosom.

”That’s–” Verity gasped.

”This staff is mine, Verity. Even if I wanted to surrender it, I couldn’t.”

Her eyes widened, and I nodded.

”You cannot claim the staff, and the Divinity your god seeks, as long as I live. It’s a part of me. Do you understand now?”

”That’s...but why would they...no, it can’t be true. He promised.”

”The Pope, or...”

”Soltair,” she said, biting her lip. ”He...said it would all work out. That I could save you and still fulfill my god’s wishes. That’s why we did all this–the ships, the trap, evacuating the city. I never wanted to–”

Verity choked at the same time my mana went berserk, and we met each other’s gaze. Her face tightened, and her hand fell to her sword.

A powerful aura swept across the courtyard, seizing me in place. I sputtered for air, staring at Verity, and quickly dismissed my staff. She bit her lip and looked away, slowly standing and turning to face an approaching group of inquisitors.

”Lord Evlon,” she said in a bare whisper.

The leader of the inquisitors was an elderly man with deep wrinkles and thin hair whiter than the frost dusting the gardens. He wore the sigil of a High Inquisitor and clutched a pure golden staff. A gleaming ruby the size of my fist floated an inch from the top, shaped into a multi-faceted sun.

Lord Evlon barely spared Verity a glance before his azure eyes fixed on me, boring into my soul. I shrank back with a choked sob, my heart pounding painfully in my chest. His soul radiated eighth-level mana, something I couldn’t resist in my weakened state.

”You’ve done well to capture the filthblood,” he said in a silky smooth voice, ”but I warn you against heeding her lies.”

”Lies?” Verity asked, taking a step toward him. ”You mean...?”

He nodded, returning his gaze to her with a smile. ”Indeed. This particular filthblood has honed the art of deception for years, using her silver tongue and skillful acting to sway even the firmest hearts.”

”But she...I...”

He laid a hand on her shoulder, giving her a grandfatherly simple. ”You are young and innocent, a thing most treasured in these trying times. Do not feel discouraged for falling prey to her wiles. Learn from this and grow, Fate Hero.”

”He’s lying,” I whispered, forcing my head up against the weight of his aura. ”They always lie. He promised to protect me, to stand alone against the gods if he had to, but then he sold me to that monster.”

Lord Evlon’s eyes narrowed. ”See? Twisting the truth to her own perspective. She never admits her own faults and blames those who seek nothing but her happiness. It’s these fiendish tendencies that blinded the Water Hero and led to her betrayal.”

”No...” I squeezed my eyes shut. ”Korra didn’t...”

Verity hesitated, chewing on her lip. ”Xiviyah, did you...lie to me?”

I tried to raise my head and meet her eyes, but a burst of pressure from Lord Evlon forced me back down, freezing my tongue. Verity waited, but when I didn’t respond, her expression sank.

”I see,” she whispered, brushing a tear from her eye. ”I had hoped that you...”

”Think no more on this,” the inquisitor said, gently pulling Verity away. ”There’s no need to worry yourself over the Fate of one as wretched as this.”

She nodded, giving me a final, searching look before allowing the others to tug her away. My heart sank as she left, and though I tried to call out to her, the inquisitor’s aura trapped my voice in my throat. Several of the other inquisitors left with her, leaving me alone with Lord Evlon and two seventh-level high inquisitors.

It might have been my imagination, but she seemed to glance at me again, lips pursed in a frown. A thought struck me as she vanished behind a battalion of soldiers. Why hadn’t she mentioned the Nexus spell to the inquisitor? Was she just that confident in his abilities? Or--

”Now then,” Lord Evlon said, crouching before me. He cupped my chin with a wrinkled hand, lifting my gaze to meet his own. In his other hand, he held a gleaming, silver collar. ”I’ve brought a gift for you.”