The Forsaken Hero

The ripple showed the entrance island, so visually crisp and clear it seemed like I was looking out a window at it. It included details that could only be seen with the Oracle of Eternity, except...more. A few remnants surrounded the gate, weapons drawn. For the first time, I could see their souls and the power coursing within. Gathrin himself stood in the front, at the peak of the eighth level.

”That can’t be right,” I whispered.

Fate glanced at me, a smile tugging at her lips. ”Only eighth, hmm? You expected more?”

”He fought that dragon!”

Fate shrugged. ”Your fate spells cannot be compared to anyone on your level, right? The gap between the eighth and the ninth might be incomprehensible to you now, but to an existence like the remnants, it is but a child’s step. The power of the sea is vast, yet it’s powerless against a well-built ship and seasoned crew.”

That was insane, upending every scrap of traditional wisdom Enusia had to offer. Fighting at a level disadvantage was asking for death. Every time I was forced into that situation, it was luck alone that saw me through. But the gap between eighth and ninth transcended everything before that. Yet, despite knowing that...

”A boat only has one purpose,” I said softly, looking back at the remnants. ”Everything it has and is can be harnessed to its fullest.”

”But the sea is spread wide, incapable of bringing its power together. From my perspective, mortals, no matter how powerful, are like the sea. They simply lack the capacity and experience to compete with immortal beings.”

”That’s why demons are so strong,” I said.

”Demons are a little different. Infernal mana is...inefficient. And, until they evolve, they are incapable of comprehending concepts like training and efficiency. Even after, they thrive on instinct. But those that are cunning and wise are not to be trifled with.”

”Like Rash’alon. Fyren tried to warn me, but...” I bit my lip, squeezing my skirt.

Fate’s voice softened. ”You took a step into the dark, and it’s too soon to say if you were wrong to do so. In the end, fate shall be the judge.”

A dark silhouette appeared in the center of the gate. A curse demon stepped out, raising its head and looking around. It was a humanoid, with pointed ears longer than any elf or demonkin, and wearing black iron armor. Its body was entirely black, save its eyes, which were the same glowing red as the rest of its kind. Two shadowy wings unfurled from its back, and it gripped a short spear with a head that seemed closer to a sword blade. It towered fifteen feet tall, looming over Gathrin.

My chest tightened as it looked around, staring right through me, though it couldn’t have known I was watching. Its soul felt ancient and powerful, akin to Incinderus or Zephyriss. An avatar?

More demons emerged after the avatar, all evolved demons with humanoid forms. There were six of them, all curse demons. The avatar looked around, taking a long, deep breath.

”A secret realm. Rash’alon was right,” he said.

Gathrin took a step forward, face steely. ”You’re not welcome here, demon.”

The avatar regarded him closely. ”What sort of creature are you? I sense no mana to harvest from you, but behind...” Its gaze rose to gaze at an island out of the ripple. A shiver ran down my tail as I realized it was looking at the city.

”I can see why he was so determined to seize the half-blood,” the demon said. A long, sinewy tongue snaked over its lips. ”The power of fate itself, gathered in a bubble. Even should you drive us out or kill us, there will be no escaping the inevitable. I know where you’re hiding now.”

I took a short breath, tail twitching. ”I...I brought them here. I’m so sorry.”

Fate patted my head, letting her fingers tangle in my hair. ”It’s alright, child. I wouldn’t have allowed you such unfettered access to this realm if there weren’t contingents in place. In order to send a gate to invade this realm, they must first return to the Infernal Realms and muster an army.”

”But how can we stop them? It’s just a matter of time now,” I said.

A mote of light appeared between Gathrin and the avatar, expanding in a flurry of stars into Arantius. A pang struck my heart when I saw the longsword in his hand. It was the same translucent gold that marked the remnant’s existence, but it felt...off. I knew the blade as it was made of shadow, when it had threatened my life in Haven’s shadow. The same blade that struck down Alverin.

”Skorrish, Devourer of Kern,” Arantius said slowly, looking the avatar up and down.

The demon recoiled, a look of unease flashing across its elvish face. Arantius nodded faintly, letting out a sigh.

”It’s been a long time. Don’t say you’ve forgotten me,” he said.

Skorrish, if that was its name, shifted, raising its sword-like spear to point at Arantius. ”What are you? I haven’t heard that title in generations. A hundred thousand years or more.”

Arantius’s eyes grew distant. ”Has it been so long?” he murmured.

The demon stiffened. His eyes grew wide, and he took a step back. ”No, that’s not possible. You can’t be him.”

Arantius looked up, a flicker of a smile crossing his face. ”So you do remember. You killed Ashalla. And Vicster, too. I was rather fond of them, even if they were only mortals. It was rare for me to descend to a world and find kindred spirits.”

Skorrish turned, waving his hand frantically. ”Go, warn Rash’alon! Just one of you has to escape, or even just die! Don’t let his light touch you!”

The demons stared at the avatar in confusion. Before they could react to the strange words, Arantius vanished. With Fate’s eyes, I could finally see how he’d left the cathedral before. He wasn’t running, flying, or even teleporting like one did through a gate. He was just...there. Like he always had been. The stars of fate themselves shifted to make it so.

He appeared behind the demon, who looked at the gate. His sword was already at the end of its strike, even before he fully materialized. A fine golden line drew a thread from the tip of the blade where it was now to where it must have been at the beginning of his slash. No, not a thread, but a cut. A cut in the very fabric of fate, neatly bisecting the demon’s infernal soul.

The line detonated, drowning out the demon’s screech in an explosion of thunder unlike anything I’d heard. Haven trembled in its wake, the very stars of fate quivering in fear. Through the light, I could just make out a black swirling gap in the center of the demon’s soul–a hole in reality itself. It sucked at the stars and threads that made up the demon’s existence, drawing them in like a black hole. In the blink of an eye, the demon imploded, collapsing into the darkness. Once its soul was gone, the severed strands of fate wove together again, closing up the hole as if it had never been there.

A profound, terrifying silence gripped the island, all of Haven holding its breath. The demon was gone. Not just killed, but...erased.

Arantius slowly straightened, casually swishing his sword through the air. The demons backed away from him. They looked...terrified. I thought I’d seen demons afraid before. They couldn’t truly die, but they felt pain, and they hated losing the opportunity of being in a mortal realm. But now, perhaps for the first time in their eternal lives, they knew fear.

”I made a promise, you know,” Arantius said, his gaze coming to rest on the demon lord. ”Not to a god, emperor, or even an archon. To a child. A mortal child.”

He laughed wryly and took a step forward. The demons tensed, eyeing the portal. The moment his foot touched the ground, he vanished again, appearing behind another two. A golden line drew through their souls, cutting both at once. Another flash of light, and they too were drawn into the nothingness beyond reality.

”I wish I could say she reminded me of myself, before I stepped into the realm of the Divine, but I can’t.” Arantius’s smile grew, obtaining a touch of fondness. ”She’s timid and frail, innocent and yet scarred by a darkness few in eternity have ever witnessed. A child who has witnessed eternity, and yet can’t understand her own heart.”

He shifted again, and two more demons disappeared. Skorrish stood rooted to the spot, unable to follow his own orders. His eyes rolled in his head, and he swallowed hard, no longer even looking at the gate.

”You can’t,” the demon croaked. ”Such powers...you can’t. You wouldn’t dare!”

Arantius arched an eyebrow. ”Oh? Don’t I?”

As if to emphasize the point, the final demon screamed, a line drawn through his soul. I shivered, shrinking against Fate. I hadn’t even seen Arantius move that time.

”The truth is, demon, I’d forgotten what it meant to be a hero. But when you, in your arrogance, came to this realm, when you chose to hunt that precious child, I remembered.” Arantius bowed his head slightly. ”Thank you, demon, for helping me feel something I haven’t felt in a long, long time. You can rest satisfied, knowing your immortal existence has had some value, in the end.”