The Forsaken Hero

That night, fate took me across the northern continent to a snarl of rugged crags and deep crevices. The night was long, the shadows deep, with only a few stars peeking through the inky blackness. A thick fog had risen in the cracks and chasms, and a thick haze of Infernal mana hung low from the sky, trapping the ridges and peaks like ships in a storm.

From my vantage point, I looked down on a thick rocky horn rising from the fog, the peak flat on the top like a table. Several auras emanated from figures standing half-obscured upon it. Two of them are demons, and the third--

”Luke!” His name escaped with a gasp, and I flew forward, descended on the horn. I reached for him, but my hand passed through the vision, through his shoulder, and slipped through the folds of his new cloak.

He didn’t turn, didn’t react. But how could he?

I bit my lip, turning my gaze from him and forcing myself to study the demons. There were seven of them, but of them, only two I recognized. The first was an equine-shaped demon, with a fiery mane and eyes burning like angry coals. The other was a blade demon whose entire corporeal form was a hollow suit of ornate plate armor, with a pair of bobbing silver orbs for eyes behind the visor. A set of twin double-bladed axes flanked him on either side, floating over his shoulders. Their names eluded me, but they were the demon lord avatars that had arrived during the Descent.

The other demons were just as powerful, their souls marking them as avatars, as well. Their attributes varied, but I was surprised to see no curse demon among them. The Curse Demons were one of the three major parties involved in Enusia, alongside the fire and blade demons.

”Yes, I agree,” the blade demon lord said, nodding at the flaming horse. I blinked, tilting my head, before remembering the fire demon spoke through telepathy. Naturally, I wouldn’t be able to eavesdrop on it through a vision.

”Then it is time for you to make good on your word, Apostle,” an unfamiliar demon said.

The avatar resembled a woman, wrinkled and bowed, with sunken, beady eyes slit like a serpent’s. Her skin was a sickly yellow, mottled with patches of rotting green. Pustules and boils marred its flesh, weeping a viscous fluid that caught the dim light. A poison demon, I guessed. They were incredibly rare on Enusia, as throughout the entirety of both the infernal and Fatesworn hordes, there were only a handful.

”Do not presume to command me, Hag,” Luke said, his eyes narrowing. ”Your presence on this council is tolerated only because of your status as a demon lord.”

She hissed, a blue, pointed tongue slithering between her lips. ”Does the little snakelet think his fangs are sharp? I should challenge you now, and rid ourselves of mortal filth for good. You’ve done nothing but slow and stall our invasion.”

”Enough,” the blade demon cut in. ”You are wasting time, Hag, as always. What say you, Apostle?”

Luke held the gaze of the poison demon a second longer, his aura smoldering. He took a short breath, and the swish of his tail became a little less agitated. ”You underestimate the people of Enusia,” he said slowly, gazing out over the ridges peeking through the fog. They have prepared for our invasion for years. If we charge in without a proper plan, we will be slaughtered. We’d never even make it past the World Barrier, much less to the Divine Throne.”

”And yet half of their world has fallen in half that time,” another demon said.

He shook his head. ”They surrendered it to us, and much of our advance was caused by good fortune.”

”That mortal demonkin, you mean,” the Blade Demon answered.

Luke hesitated, then nodded. ”Fate itself guides her. We were lucky that our paths converged for much of the war thus far.”

A long, quiet settled over the council as the demon weighed his words.

”You make it sound like that might not be the case going forward,” Hag said, breaking the silence.

”I’m not sure,” he admitted. ”I have not been in contact with her for some weeks.”

A few of the demons stirred, glancing at each other. The flames of the fire demon’s eyes flared, and his hooves stamped on the rock.

Luke’s face darkened, his aura rising again. ”She is free, and I will not tolerate any assumptions on the contrary.”

”So all of your promises, all of your plans, the very reason for your hesitation, are contingent on her...cooperation?” Hag asked, spitting the word out like, well, poison. ”She bears the weight of a Divine Curse, to your own admittance. Her body is weak, and for all we know, so is her will.”

”I knew you favored her too much. This is beyond insanity,” another council member growled, scowling at the ground. ”Your arrogance has jeopardized everything.”

Dissent broke out among the demon lords, and I shied closer to Luke, a knot in my chest.

”Enough,” the blade demon said, his voice silencing the rising objections. ”The Apostle is indeed young, naive, and foolish, but his trust is well-placed.”

The horse whinnied, and the other demon lords jerked, recoiling as if he’d cursed them.

”The Lord of Ash?” A horrified whisper leaked from Hag.

”How have we heard nothing of this?” another blade demon asked, his voice skittering like a file over the warped edge of a sword. He fidgeted, the blades making up his body rasping together nervously. ”Why did you not share such news, Lord Bloodsteel?”

Lord Bloodsteel. That was his name.

Luke looked around, his anger cooling as he studied the unease settling over the infernal council. The tip of his tail flicked, and he touched his horn, as he always did when he was puzzling something out. The small, mundane motion was oddly comforting.

”Xiviyah won’t betray us. Me,” he said firmly. ”She can’t. And even if she could, she wouldn’t. Her power is mine to wield.”

The words sent a chill down my spine. That was how the Circle talked. Like they were wielding a tool, or a weapon. Coming from Luke’s mouth, they were as frightening as they were alien. He didn’t look at me like that. He didn’t.

Or...hadn’t? But now...?

No, it wasn’t. Luke would never try to use me like that. He...he promised.

And I believed him.

”So, assuming your control over this mortal is sound, are you confident in your ability to break the world barrier?” Lord Bloodsteel asked.

”Yes. Once Evla and Constance return with the hordes mustered in the north, I’ll begin the attack. Jessia estimated their arrival some weeks from now,” Luke said. ”But it will be on my terms, and by my strategy. I expect your strength, counsel, and wisdom. Your submission, which is obligated through my mark.”

”Just so long as we finally move. Our strength is waning. Our hordes cannot exist in such mana-barren lands for much longer,” the water demon said.

”Then it is decided.” Lord Bloodsteel said, his voice ringing over the fog. ”Go, Apostle, and claim your oracle. When you return, the hordes will be united.”

I stared at Luke as he bowed his head to the demon lord and turned from the table. He strode to the edge of the horn, a violet light bursting from beneath his feet. It enveloped him, and he rose off the ground. When he’d gained some distance, he released the full strength of the art, vanishing into the night. All that remained was the memory of his mana, a promise of his warmth, and the subdued roar of a sonic boom echoing off the mountain tops.

I took a breath and turned back to the remaining council members. Their auras flickered with intrigue, anger, and suspicion. They no longer spoke aloud, but I could sense the soul speak flitting between them as surely as a coming storm. From the crackle of their auras, they were anything but pleased.

With nothing more to see, I returned to my soul space, sitting on the ground, hugging my knees to my chest. I sniffled, tears gathering, but they wouldn’t fall.

Luke was coming back.

I didn’t know if I was terrified or happy, anxious or excited. We had parted on such bad terms, but I no longer felt as I did then. I just wanted him to hold me again, to whisper in my ear how much he loved me, and feel his tail brushing against mine.

But would he?

If he didn’t, then it would be his choice.

The thought washed over me, cool and refreshing. I could approach him cold and tentative, terrified he would tear the tender scars open in my heart again. I could cry and tremble, unable to eat or sleep until he opened his arms up to me. And if he didn’t, be crushed under the weight of despair.

But I loved Luke. It made my heart ache to see him so angry and hostile, so cold. It was arrogant to think that he needed me, but I knew it was true. I hoped it was, at least. He had called me his, named me his little star. I felt like he needed that light now. Not tears and fear, but a smile. And a hug.

When he came for me, I would give him both.