The Forsaken Hero

Things came to a head quickly. Not in the gate, but myself. The small bubble of vision the gate allowed seemed to shrink as time went on, looking more and more like a cage. The time Fable disappeared ahead or behind to fight demons made the seconds drag by. Holding R’lissea’s hand did little to alleviate the tightness in my chest or the agitated swish of my tail. Every time Fable or a demon abruptly appeared, I screamed. My heart never had a chance to relax.

After clearing the next hallway, I stopped in front of the hole, staring at it. R’lissea paused, watching me with concern.

”I can’t do this anymore,” I muttered. ”There has to be a way.”

”It’s dark, but we’re making good progress,” she said.

”I haven’t even gotten a glimpse of Evla’s soul. We don’t even know how big the gate is, or how many demons are here. Even if we kill them all, we’ll just be wandering around forever.”

”Or until the gate breaks,” she muttered.

”We won’t get an invitation to leave. We’re not demons.”

”Then...” she trailed off, biting her lip.

The darkness pressed in, and the imaginary cage seemed to tighten, crushing my ribs. Every breath was difficult, burning in my throat. Fable whined, nudging my side urgently. The darkness retreated again, letting me breathe.

”We...we have to escape,” I finally managed, the words tumbling out, ”or at least find the real pattern here, not just stumble through blindly. I can’t just keep screaming every time a shadow moves.”

R’lissea looked at me, her brow furrowed with concern. ”What are you thinking, Xiviyah?”

Her question cut through the rising tide of panic. What was I thinking? Beyond fear, beyond darkness?

”Y-you said it was like a spiderweb, right?”

She nodded, tilting her head quizzically.

”Then...how do you get to where the spider is? Everything connects together there, right? Like a...a...”

I rubbed my horn, struggling to think of an analogy. She smiled and squeezed my hand.

”It’s okay, I get what you mean. Spider Webs are made up of two kinds of strands. The lateral ones form the spiral part of the web, and the radial ones support it. The lateral strands are sticky, catching the spider’s prey. The spider makes the radial strands out of nonsticky stuff. That lets it walk across the web.”

”So...we’re stuck in the spiral, right?” I asked.

She hesitated, chewing on her lip. ”It was just an analogy for the curse. I’m not sure it applies to the entire gate.”

”But it might be?”

She hesitated longer, but after stealing a look at my pleading gaze, nodded. ”Y-yeah...probably.”

”So we just have to figure out the holes that aren’t sticky. Then we can take them to the middle.”

”And how could we do that?”

I shivered. ”Touching them.”

Before I could convince myself otherwise, I pulled the pulsing warmth of Adaptive Resistance back into my soul. The shadows of the curse gate collapsed onto me. I tried to scream, but my throat closed up, heart hammering in my chest. I felt like I was drowning, and at the same time, burning alive. The last time a curse had touched me was High Valley, when Lord Byron tried to suffocate my soul over Aurle’s corpse. It had been so long, yet my soul and body hadn’t forgotten.

Something warm wrapped me around me, pulling me into the blackness. My fingers curled into fur. I held on for all I was worth, taking short, sharp breaths. Just trying to contain the fear and not pass out. The horrors of the slave and soul crests flickered through my mind nonstop. I knew in that moment I hadn’t healed from those scars, merely covered them up and avoided them. They were real and visceral, as powerful as the curses that now smothered me.

”Slowly, I fought the terror back. When I could think again, I found myself sobbing into Fable’s side. R’lissea held me, gently rubbing my back. Her face was pale with worry.

”Are you okay?” she asked as I took a long, shuddering breath.

I shook my head, burying my face in Fable’s fur. It tickled my nose and dried my tears.

”I-I thought I was okay,” I sobbed. ”I thought I healed. But it’s all right here.”

”Shhh, you’re not broken or alone anymore,” she said. ”And you are healing. This isn’t your fault. Fire doesn’t just burn you once, but every time you touch it.”

I looked up, forcing myself to stare at the darkness. Thousands of infernal souls burned out of sight, zeroing in on our position. They could feel me now, through the gate’s curses. And I could feel them.

It was the strangest sensation. The closest thing I’d ever felt to it was when Haven was just forming, and I was aware of everything and everyone inside it. The curse gate was still hidden from me, but I could feel the corridor we were in, and those adjacent to us through the holes in the wall.

”This isn’t the right one,” I said.

”Are you sure?” she asked.

I nodded, letting her help me to my feet. I shivered, hugging her when she tried to step back. ”It’s a sticky one. I can feel it.”

”Then we find another. Can you let your ability protect you again?”

”N-no. I can feel the other holes. I can guide us there.”

”Then, Fable, you’ll have to carry her.”

Fable wiggled under me, helping R’lissea put me on his back. She took a long breath.

”I’ll fight the demons. You just keep her safe,” she said.

Fable let out a low growl, a deep rumble that vibrated through me from where I clung to his back. His fur was soft against my cheek, a small comfort, but his muscles were coiled tight beneath me, ready. I took another shaky breath, trying to push past the phantom pains and the insidious terror that whispered at the edges of my mind.

”There,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. I lifted a trembling hand, pointing past R’lissea’s shoulder, down the oppressive corridor. ”About fifty feet ahead... there’s another hole in the wall... it feels different.”

R’lissea nodded and waved to the staff, summoning several sixth-circle life elements. The curse withered and blackened their forms, but each managed to retain power equal to a fifth-level demon.

”Stay close,” she said, forcing a smile. ”I don’t want you two leaving me in the dark.”

The next minute was a blur. Dozens of demons threw themselves at us, drawn to my exposed presence through the curse. R’lissea’s elementals took them by surprise, smashing them with bark-covered limbs or trampling them beneath twisting roots. Those that broke through, by strength or speed, were ensnared by R’lissea’s vines, made helpless until an elemental returned to finish them off.

”There,” I said, pointing at the hole as it emerged.

R’lissea fell back, taking hold of my hand. The elementals clustered around us, a few breaking off to hold the incoming demons at bay as we coordinated our exit.

”Now!” she cried.

Fable leaped forward, dragging us into the breach. We emerged in another tunnel, identical to the first. My heart sank. It was naive to think one right hole would take us to the center, but the lack of validation in our method was discouraging.

”Where to now?” R’lissea asked.

Her voice jolted me. I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. ”The next one’s a long way that way. Like half a mile.”

Some of the elementals had made it through with us, but only two-thirds of those that tried. The others had been too slow and likely vanished once they appeared too far away from R’lissea. She summoned a few more, bringing her mana down to about half her total pool.

We took off again, fighting through waves of curse demons. Without Adaptive Resistance, Fable focused all his strength and speed on sheltering me from the blasts of magic, shockwaves, and draining curses. A single spell was all it would take to kill or cripple me. I hadn’t been so vulnerable or afraid since waking up caged in that wagon more than two years ago.

Somehow, we made it to the hole and passed through. Another corridor, another half-mile battle to the next hole. Then another, and another.

Just when I was starting to despair, afraid we were still traveling in circles, something changed. Only a couple of hundred feet away, I felt a different kind of presence. But as soon as I sensed it, it was gone, vanishing into a hole.

”That way!” I cried. ”It’s Evla! Hurry!”

Fable lunged forward, leaving R’lissea to scurry after us. The hole was a non-sticky one, but there was no way to know if we’d emerge in the same place as the aura. I didn’t care and urged Fable through. R’lissea barely managed to catch hold of Fable’s tail, leaving all her elements behind.

The cold chills of the breach washed over us, and when they cleared, I gasped. We were in a large cavern, free of the restrictive bubble of darkness. We had escaped the corridors. My eyes teared up, but I dragged my sleeve across my face. There was no time for tears.

By some miracle, we had managed to make the gap with the mysterious aura. Beyond the fact that we left the corridors behind, two other things became clear immediately. The aura did belong to Elva. And she needed help. Badly.