The Forsaken Hero

I faced the curse gate, staring into the depths of the black swirls. Just being near it caused my skin to crawl, and yet...

”You coming?” R’lissea asked.

She and Fyren stood in the eaves of the gate, looking over their shoulders at me. Fyren had returned to his humanoid form and held his sword in his hand. R’lissea gripped her staff tightly. She gave me a small smile, but her lip was quivering.

”I...yeah. It’s just...Fyren?”

His expression hardened. He could feel what I felt through our bond. In return, I could already feel him ready to reject it.

”Fyren, would you please go into the Fire gate and other blade gate? They’re so close to breaking, and letting that many out before we’re ready is–”

”Absolutely not.”

I cringed, tail twitching. R’lissea came back a step, trying to look me in the eye. I couldn’t meet her gaze.

”Is something wrong?” she asked softly. ”Is it a vision?”

I shook my head. ”I’ve seen so many gates, but I don’t remember this one. It’s just...I thought a lot about what you asked. This gate is so weak that Fyren could kill every demon within in a few hours.”

Fyren’s eyes narrowed at R’lissea. ”What did you tell her?”

R’lissea shook her head. ”I-I don’t know. What are you talking about? Isn’t it safer if Fyren’s that strong, and we’re together? Why would we split up?”

I took her free hand, clutching it tightly in both of mine. It was shaking slightly. She wasn’t just confused, she was scared. Almost as frightened as I was.

”There are so many things I can’t do on my own. I’ve been trying so hard to trust and depend on you guys, even when it’s hard,” I said, resolve hardening with every word. ”But this...? This is something I can do. Like sleeping alone. It might be cold and dark, but so is the future. How could I ever trust myself to face Rash’alon if I can’t even handle a seventh-level gate?”

”It is my duty to protect you,” Fyren growled. ”What if something happens?”

I tried to give him a brave smile. ”The strongest demon in there could only be seventh-level. Adaptive Resistance is at eight for curse magic. Don’t curse demons all rely on magic?”

”Most, but not all,” he admitted.

R’lissea said, ”And you haven’t had a vision. What if you meet a rare seventh-level melee combatant? You’re too fragile to erect sufficiently powerful wards right now, and it might kill you before Fable or I have a chance to act.”

”And that’s why this means something,” I whispered. ”I haven’t had a vision. I don’t know if I’ll be okay.” I turned to R’lissea. ”You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to. I can’t expect you to risk your life and–”

”No.” She took a shaky breath. ”I’ll go. I want to be brave, too.” Her hand tightened on mine, ceasing its trembling. ”I couldn’t do anything to stop Connor before. I don’t ever want to feel that helpless again. I have to get stronger, braver, and more confident. I won’t leave you to do that without me.”

”You two...” Fyren shook his head, looking as if he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

”Please?” I asked, looking at him with wide eyes.

He groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. ”You should know demons aren’t swayed by looks like that, no matter how innocent and–aagh, fine. But I cannot stress how important your life is enough.”

I let out a short breath, easing up a bit. ”Thank you. And Borealis?” I raised my arm, bringing the crystalline bird about to look in the eye. ”Please, bring the rest. If something happens and the gates break before any of us return, as Incinderus to annihilate anything that comes out...except for Evla...and us, of course.”

Borealis squeaked and nuzzled my cheek. I giggled, patting his head. He spread his wings and took off, streaking to the horde a few miles away.

Fyren gave me a flat look. ”You know he’s thousands of years old, right? There’s no need to spoil him.”

I blushed, rubbing my horn. It would have been easier to let Fyren deliver those orders through the mark, but I felt a little guilty. Even if Borealis was thousands of years old, I didn’t want him to feel left out. He wouldn’t be able to enter the gates with us, after all.

”If we’re doing this, then let us be about it,” Fyren said, turning toward the nearest gate. It was a mile distant, but I had no doubt he’d probably reach it before I could walk the dozen or so feet to the curse gate.

”Good luck,” he said, vanishing into a blur. He left a small crater behind and a trail of smoldering embers.

”Ready?” I asked.

Fable growled, and R’lissea nodded. Together, we stepped through the gate.

The wind left my lungs as the ground dropped away beneath my feet. The horrible sensation I’d felt entering Incinderus’s gate slammed into me in full force. I tried to scream, but my voice was smothered by the filth of infernal curse mana.

My feet touched the ground, but I still couldn’t breathe. The realm itself rejected my very soul, squeezing, prodding, breaking. It was all I could do to focus on my aura, drawing it to the surface of my soul, fortifying against the onslaught.

Gradually, the tide of curse mana weakened, and my soul began to adjust. The friction was ever-present, but I managed to suck in a small breath, followed by another, then another.

A hand stroked my back, another gently kept me from falling. I forced my eyes open, face pale, gazing into R’lissea’s worried face.

”Are you alright?” she asked.

I nodded, whispering a hoarse ”Yes.”

The gate entrance was small and claustrophobic, with narrow walls made of living shadow. They wavered slightly, like I was viewing something underwater. There was no floor or ceiling, just vast voids of utter blackness. We stood on nothing at all, yet didn’t fall. Faint tendrils of darkness traced our feet wherever we went, like ripples in a glassy pond. It reminded me of how Haven felt when it first formed, only with none of the comfort and all the uncertainty.

”This is a curse gate?” R’lissea asked. She shuddered. ”It’s awful.”

”You haven’t been in one before?” I asked.

She shook her head. ”I’ve been in hundreds of gates, but Ronin always took the scary ones.”

Ronin. The War Hero. Sometimes, I forgot how close they were before she...broke things off.

”Thanks for being here,” I said, huddling closer to her. Her hand slipped into mine, but I couldn’t tell if I’d grabbed hers or the other way around. ”It’s a lot worse than I thought.”

She forced a smile. ”What are friends for, if not to walk into literal hell with?”

Fable appeared behind us. Immediately, he curled around me, tail lashing. His eyes narrowed at the darkness, as if he could see something there I couldn’t.

”At least we’re not the only ones on edge,” I said, idly petting his head.

”So, how do we find Evla?” R’lissea asked.

I hesitated, glancing at the only hole in the walls of shadows. ”I was hoping I’d be able to sense her mana signature, but I don’t think that’s happening. I feel like I’ve been stuffed with cotton and dumped in a swamp.”

She winced. ”Is having an attributed soul that bad?”

”It wasn’t in the fire gate, but this...I think I just don’t get along with curse magic.”

”Me either. I can feel it sapping my mana with every second we’re here.”

I frowned, promptly casting Link Soul. Her parlor improved dramatically, and she took a long breath.

”I should have suggested that before,” she muttered.

A loud, haunting moan floated through the gate. It came from everywhere at once. I hugged close to Fable, glancing anxiously above and below, but the void was impenetrable.

R’lissea groaned. ”Why don’t we choose a normal gate next time we’re feeling brave?”

Tentatively, we crept toward the hole in the shadows. I kept stuttering, my feet refusing to move. Fable kept nudging me from behind. Eventually, he huffed and padded forward, giving me a scathing look over his shoulder.

He vanished the moment he left the entrance room. R’lissea and I froze, staring wide-eyed at each other. Then, letting out little squeaks, we dashed after him.

My foot hit the void on the other side, but it suddenly fell out from beneath me. My scream echoed in my ears as I tumbled through the darkness. R’lissea’s hand was torn out of mine.

Abruptly, I was standing again, with no downward momentum. I sank to my knees anyway, panting heavily. My staff appeared in my hands as hundreds, maybe thousands, of infernal souls pinged in the darkness.

”Xiviyah?”

R’lissea appeared next to me, shaking almost as bad as I was. She grasped my hand and dragged me to my feet. We stood in a long corridor with the same shadowy walls and nothingness above and below.

”Can you see anything?” she asked.

I shook my head. Shadows, impenetrable even to my demonkin eyes, lingered just twenty feet away. I took a step forward, and the darkness retreated ahead and gathered behind the same amount, trapping us in a small bubble that moved with us.

”Um, Fable?” I called.

There was no response.