The Forsaken Hero

The stairs descending into the ship’s hold were steep and narrow, jammed into a hallway that smelled faintly of blood and pine. Fyren had remained behind, questioning the captain on the capabilities of the ship, by Zephyriss had followed my guard and me into the depths of the ship.

One of the mages who had completely depleted his mana served as our guide, escorting us through the rooms of the lower deck to the hold. Light shone in thin beams through cracks in the ceiling from scars too minor to repair. I felt the movement of the ship in my stomach, the occasional lurch and sway as we headed toward the Grove, leaving me queasy.

As we entered the cargo hold, filled with nothing but crates now torn open for supplies and repairs, the ship jerked to the right, sending me against Zephyriss. The storm demon caught me with a giggle, setting me on my feet.

”Are you sure the ship’s airworthy?” I asked the mage, gripping my staff a little too tightly.

Before he could respond, Luxxa let out an exasperated sigh. ”That’s the third time you’ve asked,” she said. ”We nearly blew the thing in half; no wonder it’s a little shakier than normal.”

I cringed, ducking my head. ”Sorry. I won’t ask anymore.”

”It was only nearly because I wasn’t supposed to do it,” Zephyriss said, folding her arms and wearing a slight pout. ”I could have obliterated the entire thing by myself.”

The mage cleared his throat, an amused smile tugging at his lips. ”If you’ll follow me? The Prism is just beyond here, in the secondary cargo hold.”

He led us down a steep ramp that took us another level deeper, ending at a set of wide double doors. They were thrown open, a pair of sailors rummaging through the crates tied against the wall. They saluted us and returned to their business.

My gaze was drawn to the center of the room, to what I could only describe as a lantern. It hung suspended from the ceiling by a thick chain nearly the width of itself, with a few other bindings of the same tether securing it to the floor and walls. Within the cage was a shimmering crystal, emitting a brilliant rainbow sheen reminiscent of a Shard. It looked like a star, captured in a cage, radiating a warmth that filled the room, soaking me to the bone. To the Oracle of Eternity, it was blinding, possessing mana that made its resemblance to a shard more than aesthetic.

”How curious,” Zephyriss said, fluttering a circle around it. She made to touch it, but pulled her hand back at the last second, giving me an abashed look. ”It looks delicious. May I?”

”No, you can’t eat it!” I said, ”It must be an artifact or something.”

”Fine,” she said, turning her head with a sniff. ”But you can’t blame a demon for trying.”

As I studied the lantern, I too found myself drawn to it like a moth to the flame. It radiated a distinct signature I matched to the power the high inquisitor drew for the Interdiction. And yet, even laying eyes on it, it was no less mysterious. As enigmatic as the night sky.

Before I could stop myself, I touched it, running my finger over one of the slender bars of the hood. It was smooth and cool to the touch, carved in a sharp, geometric shape that reminded me of a sunbeam. Or a star’s rays. I liked that interpretation a lot better.

The crystal core within the lantern shivered, resonating with my soul. An entire new spectrum of colors swirled within it, so brilliant it was almost painful. As the light washed over me, I became aware of a conduit, drawn from mana itself, connecting the prism with something deeper in the hold, on the lowest deck. I could see it in my mind’s eye, a massive mana cannon some three times the size of even the seventh-level weapons the empire had deployed against us.

I withdrew my hand, turning to our escort. ”Is there another manna cannon in the hold?”

”Not that I’m aware of, my Lady,” he said.

”Really? But I...there should be.”

He frowned. ”Those kinds of weapons take an extravagant amount of resources to build, and we can’t waste them collecting dust in the hold. Every cannon is, by Whitemarsh policy, to be stored where it can be deployed at a moment’s notice.”

”I sense it too,” Zephyriss said, her eyes lighting up. ”This prism’s linked to something.”

With a flutter of her wings and the scent of passing rain, she darted past a line of crates, causing the soldiers there to jump in surprise. I hurried after her, conscious of the long looks my guards gave each other. I caught the tip of her stormy wings vanishing down another ramp, a pair of double doors swinging on their hinges in her wake.

The new room was smaller, narrower than the last, with sloped walls that indicated we were in the belly of the ship. No lights lit the darkness, so I soul cast a sun spell, filling the hold with warm yellow light. Dust swirled in the rays, dancing in the eddies of Zephyriss’s breeze. A long seam parted the room, dividing the floor in half, with bolts holding it together, like a door.

”I don’t believe it,” the mage whispered as he came up behind us.

There, the only object in the room was a massive mana cannon. It hung upside-down, bolted to the ceiling, its barrel at an angle such that it nearly touched the floor. It was dark and dormant, yet appeared exactly as I knew it would.

”There was nothing here,” our escort said, approaching the cannon. ”We usually keep this hold empty, as it’s more difficult to load and unload from.”

”The floor opens?” I asked.

He nodded. ”The deck cannons have a hard time angling directly beneath the ship, so the plan was, eventually, to fix guns within the ship to cover that weakness. It was seen as too expensive to implement, but every ship is built with the capability, should the need arise. I also heard they were experimenting with fitting smaller skyships within it, or dropping some sort of volatile magic weapons from within.”

”And that’s why it wasn’t searched?” Luxxa asked, narrowing her eyes. ”What if enemies had been hiding within, waiting to ambush us?”

”It was an...oversight. Protocol barely acknowledges this lower hold. I’ll bring it up with the captain to ensure it’s amended.”

”The problem with new things is that they’re new,” Jenna said, nodding. ”It’s only natural that there are holes. It’s just important you plug them as quickly as possible.”

”What was the church planning to do with this?” I wondered aloud, circling the cannon slowly. ”If it used the prism’s power, it might be able to launch an eighth-level attack. Even a low ninth wouldn’t be out of the question, though I doubt it could withstand that power more than once.”

I thought back to my vision, where this ship had been allowed to reach its destination unhindered. Was that how the grove had been leveled? But why would they do that?

”They knew they were unprepared to fight us,” I whispered, tracing a hand along the crystalline spike that served as its fifteen-foot barrel. It was hard and cool, thick as my torso at the base, but narrowing to a tapered point.

”Likely,” Zephyriss said, nodding. ”A hit from this at full power would send even me or the Lord of Ash back to the infernal realms.”

”Then that gives us an edge,” I said, turning from the cannon. ”They’ll engage at a disadvantage, assuming this will then even the odds. But if it never actually fires...”

”Why not?” Zephyriss asked. ”We could use it ourselves.”

I shook my head, shivering. ”No, it’s too strong. In my vision, even one shot...the whole grove was ruined, reduced to ash.”

It wasn’t just any manor or mansion, either, but the Verdant Grove. It was the strongest, most secure location in Sylvarus, with more powerful enchantments and wards than the outer walls. It wouldn’t be strange for it to endure a peak eighth-level spell, and yet in my vision, the entire complex, and miles around, had been obliterated.

”Hmm, I wonder,” Zephyriss said, staring at the cannon.

”Please?” I asked, clasping my hands tightly.

She was quiet for a moment longer before turning. ”Well, that’s one mystery solved.”

Without another word, she flew off, streaking up the ramp and disappearing into the ship above. I gave one more look at the cannon before following her, leading our party back to the upper decks.

Fyren raised an eyebrow as we explained our find, and immediately suggested the same thing as Zephyriss. Again, I explained my vision, and, reluctantly, he agreed.

A shout rose across the deck, setting the crew scurrying about: donning armor, charging the remaining two mana cannons, and taking positions around the ship. Oddly enough, some donned the bloody tabards of the fallen inquisitors, the white cloth hiding their elvish armor.

”What is it?” I asked, doing my best to look around without actually peering over the side.

”We’re here,” Captain Melvet said, nodding ahead. ”The Verdant Grove.”