The Forsaken Hero

As the last rune fell into place, the circles shivered, and a dark black line snaked through the air, from the ground to the height of the garden walls. But as the fissure began to widen, it collapsed in on itself with a sound like shattering glass. The mana revolted, breaking free of my control and rebounding back into my soul.

I had just enough time to suck in a breath before the backlash struck. It tore into my soul, driving the breath from my lungs and scattering my mana. In a fit of desperation, I flared Adaptive Resistance, but the warmth rose a little too late, and I doubled over, writhing in pain. It overwhelmed my senses, blinding hot, like fiery inquisitor knives ripping into my soul.

Just as quickly, the tide of roiling mana subsided, broken by Adaptive resistance. It had only lasted a second, yet when I finally managed to open my eyes, I was curled up on the ground, shaking uncontrollably. My lungs burned for want of air, my head throbbed, and the blurred around me. Or maybe that was just my tears.

Hands fell on me, lifting me from the ground and holding me against cold steel. A pulse of warm life magic flooded my body, and a soft voice cooed in my ear.

”Easy, my Lady, just breathe.”

The magic loosened the stranglehold on my chest, and I gasped, air flooding my lungs. I started to cough and tasted blood, but the burning in my chest eased. A cloth dabbed my lips, coming away damp with blood.

”What happened? Did the spell fail?” Sari’s voice asked.

I blinked away the tears, shuddering as another tremor wracked my soul. Luxxa held me, draping my body across her lap. Sari and the other star guard formed a circle of worried faces over me.

”Just...backlash,” I panted, struggling to sit up. ”It was stronger than I expected. Took me a second to absorb it.”

Luxxa pressed her hand to my chest, gently but firmly, holding me back down. ”Take it slow,” she said, ”Failing an eighth circle spell is no mere setback. You’re lucky it didn’t kill you.”

I took a few deep breaths, resting against her until my heart rate slowed. Then, ignoring her protests, I stood and summoned my staff again.

”What are you doing?” Sari asked, eyes wide. ”You’re not going to try again, are you?”

I chuckled, wincing as my throat cracked. ”You’re not getting out of it, Sari. Even if it kills me.”

”That’s not the kind of thing to joke about,” she gasped. ”What if you mess up the spell again? You really might die!”

”I didn’t make a mistake. I just...forgot,” I admitted, rubbing my horn sheepishly. ”I wanted to go to the inn we always stayed at, the Glossy Swallow.”

”Is that the inn the Glory Chasers stayed at?” she asked.

I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. I’d seen it time and time again in vision and dream, and yet...

”It must be gone,” I admitted, my shoulders slumping.

”Then you can just open a rift to another area, right?”

I hesitated, fidgeting with my sleeve, before shaking my head. ”I don’t remember any. Not clearly. That was...that was home.”

Sari was quiet, looking at me, her ears flicking. Then, she let out a huff, folding her arms and resting her weight on one leg. ”You’re not giving up, are you?”

I flinched at the edge in her voice, hunching my shoulders. Sari never spoke to me like that. Never! Except...when she was acting the adult. Like I should be. Like when she pushed me to confess to Luke.

For some reason, her attitude got under my skin, and I straightened, firming my tail. ”No, I’m not. Stand back, please.”

I grasped my staff in both hands and began to muster my mana. It was reluctant to obey after the backlash, but with a little coaxing, it began to gather. My aura stirred as I drew on the Oracle of Eternity, preparing to enter my soul space. But as darkness began to gather, I paused, glancing down at the shining star atop the Final Star, then at Sari.

She hadn’t been in my soul space when she was swept into fate and saw my story. Neither had the soldiers and servants of the Sunsinger Manor, nor the elves at the coronation. I’d given visions by touch to the Crown Prince of Blacksand and a handful of other beings, like Aerion. Just bathing in my aura was enough.

So why did I rely so heavily on my soul space? Sure, it made focusing and manifesting visions easier, but at this point, did I really need that? It made sense when I was sleeping, and fate itself impressed upon me, but I was no child anymore.

”Come to me,” I whispered, letting my mana slip from my grasp and, turning my focus outward, to my aura. The stars answered my call, beginning to swirl around me, slow and lethargic. They built in power and dimension, until I stood at the center of a vortex of shining stars, stretching out beyond the gardens.

I gasped as power filled me, setting my soul atingle. Not my own mana, or the borrowed strength of the Aetherial prism, but the pure, unfiltered power of my aura. The power of fate itself.

Moving more by instinct than understanding, I waved my hand, impressing my will upon the stars. They responded eagerly, as if awaiting my command. The world scattered into ribbons of light, which then reformed, weaving the world back into place. But when it returned, gone were the gardens of the Sunsinger Estate. Now, all those who had been within my aura stood in a small plaza in the midst of a familiar city on the other side of the continent. Heartland.

Heartland was much as I remembered, with half-timber architecture, wood shingled roofs, and stone and mortar foundations that rose a few feet off the lumpy cobblestone streets. The streets were wide, boasting stalls and narrow alley markets, with few of the yards and gardens I’d grown used to seeing in Blacksand and Sylvarus.

The people of Heartland, however, were not. They trudged across the streets, their clothing worn, patched, and tattered. Many hugged cloaks about them, warding off the bitter winter winds. The sky was dull with gray clouds, but their eyes were duller. Mother clutched their children close, scowling at any stranger who got too close. Even the markets were quiet, their merchants hawking their wares in subdued voices. There were no fruits or flowers available, which wasn’t unusual given the season, but even the fall crops were wilted and withered, too sparse for a city of this size.

”What is this? A vision?” Sari asked, looking around with wide eyes. ”It feels so real.”

She shivered as a gust flanked our small party, but to me, the cold was more the idea of cold, rather than the actual sensation. Closer to experiencing something through a soul-spoken memory than to reality.

”It’s not,” I whispered, flinching as a burly man in a tattered cloak walked right through Fable. The wolf didn’t react, lying on the cobblestones exactly where he’d lounged on the grass before, looking completely unbothered. Borealis on his head, however, squawked, waving his wings irritably at the oblivious offender.

The Star Guard, who had drawn their weapons the moment the world shifted, finally relaxed.

”I can’t sense any souls,” Gith replied. ”None of these people are here.”

”No, it’s us who are not,” I said softly. ”It’s a vision, justin ot one that we’re used to.”

”I don’t think I’ve ever gotten used to visions,” Gith muttered, slinging his bow on his back.

”Why did you bring us here?” Luxxa asked, looking around, wearing a small frown. ”Given how highly you’ve spoken of Heartland in the past, I’ll admit I expected a little...”

”...more?” Jenna finished.

Luxxa nodded. ”Yeah, more. At least a few smiles, I guess.”

”It wasn’t always like this,” I murmured, my throat feeling tight. Looking at it now, it was hard to imagine the cheerful shopkeepers who had always been willing to serve me despite my heritage, or the sly jeweler who had given me Tana’s ring, really lived here. ”The war has taken its toll, even on lands it hasn’t touched.”

”They have a shard, don’t they?” Luxxa asked.

”They did, but...I think Jessia took it. She traveled to all the northern cities and snatched them up without an invasion. That’s what Luke told me,” I said. After looking around, studying the small plaza, I clapped my hands. ”Alright, I’ve seen enough.”

The world unwound again, and this time, when it reassembled, we were back in the garden. Fable yawned, slowly getting to his feet, his tail idly swishing. Borealis fluttered from his head, landing on my shoulder. I scratched his head, raised my staff, and began to cast again.

When the first rune appeared, Sari jumped, her tail bristling with alarm. The Star Guard looked similarly displeased, but they all knew better than to interrupt me again and risk ruining the spell. But I didn’t need their faith or their worry. This time, I cast with confidence, completing the spell in half the time it had taken me before.

When the spatial rift appeared, I took a step toward it before the fissure even formed. It opened this time, revealing a small, dirty plaza in a dark, enshadowed city. Unwavering, I stepped through the rift, my head held high. At last, I could return to the closest thing I had to home. One step, and I was finally back in Heartland.