The Forsaken Hero

The Azure Wing glided through the sky, gracefully waving between plumes of smoke and errant blasts of magic. As we drew close over the city, my heart grew heavy, the violence and bloodshed growing more apparent. Corpses, soldiers and civilians alike, were strewn across the ruins of manors and markets. So many homes, supply depots, and even walled manors were consumed in flame. It was horrifying to see from above, but I could only imagine what it must have looked like to those trapped in the carnage below.

Was this the change Aerion had been planning all this time? Where soldiers roved in lawless bands, slaughtering anyone they thought supported the other’s cause? Was this truly better than the elitism and traditions of their past?

It got worse as we approached the Verdant Grove, where more than one in five manors was aflame. Occasionally, we passed the bodies of nobles, their fine clothes caked in mud and blood, lying scattered in the streets and gardens. Over almost every single mansion was their flagpoles, the house’s colors replaced by a single crimson thread.

”I can’t,” I whispered, turning to Fyren, tears in my eyes. ”Why couldn’t they just have believed me? Why did it have to come to this?”

”This is war, Xiviyah,” he said softly. I could feel his pity, not for the slain elves, but for me.

”It’s just so senseless.”

”It’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? To give the elves the power to choose their own future. This is them choosing.”

”I know,” I said, pulling away from him. ”It’s just...I wasn’t expecting it to be like this.”

”Are we sure this is a good idea?” Luxxa asked from beside me. ”You’ve done more than enough today. The aegis will protect the city, but you’ll be in danger if we return to the grove.”

”Yes, I’m certain.”

I didn’t feel like elaborating, or much like anything except for maybe finding Luke and begging for a hug. Perhaps that would stop the gross, icky weight on my chest.

She sighed, nodding. ”As you wish, my Lady.”

The Azure Wing passed over the walls of the Verdant Grove. The outer courtyards were a mess. The twisted frame of a skyship was embedded in a colossal tree, both coated in a thick layer of jagged ice. Another tree, part of the structure of the wall itself, had uprooted itself and was now twisted around the hull of another, its branches and vines binding it like a constrictor serpent. A few ragged bands of the Crimson Dawn were searching through the ashes of another, pulling elves from the still-smoldering embers. They looked up as we passed, the gold of the aegis glimmering in their eyes.

The inner courtyards were marred by spell and sword beyond recognition. Still, somehow, it had fared better than in my vision. The Grove itself still stood, towering over the forest, a witness to the horrors beneath its bows. Of the nobles who remained, only those bearing allegiance to the Whitemarshs or Crimson Threads still stood, forming a loose perimeter around the two places where battle still raged.

That inquisitor’s still alive?” Fyren asked, raising his eyebrows.

I gripped my staff a little tighter, following his gaze. To the south of the grove were Korra, Gayron, and Victor. All three fought against a bloodied band of white-robbed inquisitors. Each wore a crystal talisman, the same as every loyalist soldier had. Even though the arbiter was without my Aegis, they still burned with light, strengthening their attacks and sharpening their reflexes.

But they weren’t the only ones wearing. Both Gayron and Korra had somehow proffered one, letting it hang openly around their necks, mockingly. And, as it did for the inquisitors, so too did it bless my friends.

Gayron fought as a small party of himself, with several clones, both of humanoid form and in his demon visage. It had been so long since I’d seen him take it, I’d almost forgotten how similar it was to Fyren’s. It was some twenty feet tall, with long, curved horns and natural plated armor cracked with molten fire. His demon flickers served as a bulwark, absorbing the few remaining inquisitors’ spells while his demonkin clones took advantage of their size to slip past and land devastating blows with their blades.

As for Korra, I had a hard time following her moves. She was a blur, fighting with Victor against Lord Evlon himself. She showed none of the struggles she complained about in sparring. Every punch and kick she managed to slip beneath his guard resulted in a fine thread of mana that bound his limbs or sapped his strength. It was more subtle than Luke’s curses, but as the fight dragged on, it proved even more effective.

Victor, for his part, lagged, struggling to keep up with Korra and Lord Evlon. His soul was strong enough to match their speed, but his weapons were never in the perfect place, and his defenses had too many holes. The most he could do, much to his apparent frustration, was pressure the inquisitor from behind, giving Korra opportunities.

It was strange, watching such an intense battle and yet feeling nothing from the slight breeze generated from their wind blades and shockwaves.

”That’s close enough,” I said as we hovered a short distance away, beneath the bows of the Grove.

The Azure Wing slowed to a stop, its massive hull drawing the gaze of the soldiers gathered below. Captain Melvet began shouting orders, and what few crew they had spilled over the edges on rope ladders. Someone must have recognized one of them, because the grim looks turned to relief, and gratitude as aid and supplies were lowered to the ground.

”Fyren?” I asked, looking at the demon.

He sighed and held out his hand. I took it, and he drew me close, gingerly taking me in his arms. Flurries of glowing embers and wisps of smoke swirled around us as he carried me into the sky, gently placing me on the ground in the shadow of the skyship. The Star Guard followed us closely, encircling me as I regained my balance, knees trembling from the short flight.

Suddenly, I felt an aura approaching, and turned just in time to be hit in the chest by a very chilly bird.

”Borealis!” I cried, cradling the bird to my chest, letting his momentum spin me around.

He squawked, nuzzling me, and I looked up to see R’lissae alight next to us. She frowned at me, but couldn’t help a smile as she embraced me.

”Should have guessed something was up. No way you could stay away from a battle like this. I’m just glad you waited so long.”

”Well, we were busy,” I mumbled, looking up at the skuship.

She nodded slowly. ”So it would seem. I take it you found Victor?”

My expression darkened. ”There was another high inquisitor on the ship. They found him up north and cursed him with a heart crest.”

”I wondered why they attacked so brazenly,” she said, glancing around the courtyard. ”They were expecting reinforcements. And good work with your spell. I hadn’t imagined you’d be able to shield the whole city.”

I shifted slightly, tail twitching at her praise. ”Emlica and I have been working on it for a while. I didn’t just sit around and learn how to dance these last few months.”

The dozen inquisitors who still stood formed a tight circle in the bloodied courtyard, their pristine white robes now drenched in sweat and gore. They fought with desperate ferocity, their crystal talismans burning with a fading light as they parried the relentless assault. A clone of Gayron’s demonic form lunged forward, its serrated claws catching the nearest inquisitor across the chest. The man stumbled backward, clutching the ruin of his armor, before a blade of fire carved through his neck.

”Damn you all,” Lord Evlon hissed, fending Korra and Victor off with a seventh-level technique, buying his remaining forces a chance to breath. ”Where have you hidden her? And how the hell did you catch that bastard ally of mine?”

Korra, panting heavily herself, just grinned. ”Guess you’ll never know. Must be frustrating, chasing us to hell and back, only to die here, knowing Xiviyah’s safe and sound. Honestly, she probably doesn’t even know your name.”

His eye twitched, and his aura flared. ”I am a high inquisitor, heretic. Even should we fall here, I will be remembered in the hallowed halls of the Divine for my service.”

”Should? Do you think you’re getting away again? After what you’ve done to Brithlite, Blacksand, and here?” Korra asked.

”She speaks true, inquisitor,” Victor said. ”You’ve twisted the minds and corrupted the hearts of every law and government that stood against the chaos of your wars. I’ve seen the results of your crimes in the farms and villages, in the people--human, elf, and beastkin alike--who have suffered because of your crimes. It’s only just that you answer for them today.”

Lord Evlon barked a bitter laugh. ”What right do you have, children, to judge me? There is no mortal, no immortal, worth the pride and purposes of the divine. I would sacrifice this whole world if my gods asked, I would kill every soul myself. Such is our purpose, to please those on high. That, alone, is what preserves the cycle. That’s what brings meaning to our existence.”

”Can we just kill the bastard already?” Gayron asked, glaring at Lord Evlon.

Korra nodded. ”Yeah, I think so. No point wasting any more words.”

”You think you’ve won?” Lord Evlon asked, raising his sword. ”I’ll not quit before my missions are complete. If you won’t tell me where the oracle is, I’ll force it from your lips, one cut at a time.”

”I don’t think so,” Korra said, raising her hand.

Her fingers clenched in a fist, her aura surging as she triggered one of her unique heroic abilities, Crashing Waves.

Lord Evlon’s eyes widened as the countless threads of water mana she’d weaved around him all tightened, releasing their power in an instant. He staggered as the magic flooded him, his armor sloughing off him like molten slag, torn apart by the force of the magic. He fell to his knees, struggling to lift his arms, reaching for a ring he wore on his finger.

Korra stalked toward him, her hand darting out to snatch his wrist. She twisted it, and he screamed, blood spurting from his wrist as his bones snapped.

”Not today,” she whispered, leaning toward him, ”The only place you’re going is hell.”

With that, she placed her hand on his chest, fingers curling slightly against his scarred, bloody skin. Water swirled around her palm, swirling faster and faster until it condensed into a long, thin spike of ice. With a soft, cold breath, she plunged it into his chest. He shuddered, a choked gasp bubbling from his lips.

With a final, shuddering breath, Lord Evlon collapsed.