The Forsaken Hero

I kept my head low over Fable’s shoulder as he dodged and wove across the city, leaping across roofs and ducking into alleys to avoid cannon fire. Everywhere around us, explosions tore entire blocks apart. I guided Fable through instinct alone, relying on my finely tuned mana sense to determine which mana lances my magic could take, which ones were eighth-level. Occasionally, I caught a glimpse of Luke’s curses enveloping a tower, or a flicker of his cloak billowing columns of smoke and flame. Our paths slowly converged as we worked out separate ways to the keep, but reuniting was impossible.

Darkreign Keep didn’t look like much from the outside. The towers and walls were sturdy, its garrisons secure, but it seemed so small and unimpressive. Power enchantments practically saturated the walls, overlaying atop each other in a tangled mess such that it was impossible to get a read on their power and intentions. Their roots descended into the earth, vanishing beneath the mountain. The sheer mass of magic charged the air with enough ambient mana that it made my horns itch.

The mountainside approaching the fort was framed by rocky ridges, the slope terraced with wide, shallow steps. A long, steep staircase cut through the middle, with small forts and walls dug on each terrace step, guarded by several hundred soldiers. Four mana cannons glowed atop the keep’s towers. The turrets were too small to be outfitted with the eighth-level kind, but the seventh-level currents charging their crystal barrels were just as brilliant. They hummed as the canoneers swiveled them toward us, tracking Fable’s every move. With a roar, they release blistering lances of light from their slender, needle-like tips.

”Mirror Sphere!” I cried, throwing up my hand.

A glowing, translucent sphere of reflective, silvery light sprang up around Fable. Three of the shots missed, lagging a little behind the silver wolf, but the fourth struck at his flank. Instead of an explosion, the silver lance refracted, turning impossibly in its tracks. In the blink of an eye, it streaked back the way it had come. Shouts erupted from the tower as mages froze, their eyes filling with the descending light.

The lance detonated on the bulwark just beneath the turret. The tower exploded in a shower of masonry, throwing bodies and rubble into the courtyard beyond. When the clouds of smoke and dust cleared, the wall still stood. Not even a single stone had shifted in its place.

The cannon fire stilled as a shocked silence descended, soldiers staring at the smoldering wreckage in disbelief. Fable took advantage of the reprieve, putting on a burst of speed. He smashed right through a formation of heavily armored soldiers, scattering them like leaves in the wind. There was the crunch of bone and the terrible tearing, crumpling of steel. Their screams chased after us, falling behind as he blurred, continuing to accelerate.

A surge of curse mana behind us marked Luke’s arrival. His aura swept up the mountain, blanketing the terraces in darkness. Soldiers withered in its grips, stumbling around blindly as their souls hemorrhaged, until they inevitably collapsed, snuffed out like candles. He streaked over our heads, dragging his aura behind like a vast, ever-expanding cloak. He vanished over the top of the outer wall, and by the time Fable made it, his curses had enveloped the towers. One by one, the cannons went dark, their mana siphoned by the darkness, drawn in to Luke’s soul.

Fable leaped the gate, clearing it in a single bound. As we crested the gate, I looked down, my tail going stiff at the sight of several dozen soldiers and mages, their souls causing the courtyard to swim with mana. Shouts filled the air as they aimed arrows, spells, and spears upward, unleashing a wave of fourth and fifth-level attacks. My wards flared as they absorbed the brunt of the assault, preserving Fable’s momentum. We struck the ground hard, shattering the cobblestone courtyard beyond. The ground trembled as cracks snaked across the ground, opening small fissures from the impact. Our enemies stumbled and fell, their screams dying as their concentration crumbled and Luke’s curses consumed them.

Scarcely had we landed, then Fable let out a howl and charged toward the inner gates. His fur began to glow as he unleashed his mana, a nimbus of gold that turned him into a comet of starry light. The air crackled with his power, his aura tightening my chest, strangling my startled scream. I started to throw up a ward, but there was no way I could react in time, no chance for my magic to form.

A split-second before impact, a flash of violet lit the corner of my eye/ Suddenly, I was weightless, lifted from his back. My breath caught, the world spinning incomprehensibly, but I relaxed as Luke’s familiar scent filled my nostrils.

”I’ve got you,” he murmured, landing in a crouch, carrying me like a princess.

Fable hit the gate hard, concentrating the entire force of an eighth-level art on the point of impact. A shockwave erupted as the enchantments flared reactively, countless runes lighting up across the heavy steel beams of the portcullis. They burned bright, and for a terrifying moment, I feared they would hold. Then the metal screeched, and the enchantments shattered, runes winking out one by one, leaving burning afterimages behind.

One failure turned into many as the enchantment arrays overloaded, triggering a chain reaction that spread through the entire defensive array. As the enchantments destabilized, the endless streams of mana from deep in the earth went berserk. Secondary explosions ripped across the surface of the mountain and walls, blasting huge chunks of stone and earth free. The mountain groaned, shifting as the slopes collapsed, crashing upon the keep like an avalanche. Streams of rock and boulders buried struggling soldiers across the courtyard and tumbling into the city below, decimating manors and gardens.

Luke waved his hand, slapping a house-sized boulder away with a current of mana before it could strike us, but the torrent of earth only grew, the earth trembling underfoot. The whole mountain seems to be coming down, blotting out the sky.

My throat tightened as panic clawed at my heart. I went rigid, staring up at the descending waves of mountainside. Memories forced themselves to the forefront of my mind, and I let out a small whimper, squeezing my eyes shut. The terror of the depths, walls closing around me, the callous arms of someone moving me a little closer to the surface...

No, this wasn’t then. The arms around me were warm and strong. Luke was not Soltair, and I wasn’t helpless this time.

”We have to move!” I cried, ”We don’t have time to get buried, or we’ll lose everything!”

Luke reacted instantly, darting forward, toward the incoming landslide. As more boulders crashed down around us, he dove forward, flying through the jagged hole Fable had torn into the mountain. Shards of twisted metal framed the broken portcullis like teeth, welcoming us into the gaping maw of Darkreign Keep. The light vanished behind us as thousands of tons of earth and stone buried the entrance, trapping us inside. Dust surged past us, clouding the air and making my eyes and throat burn. I coughed, struggling to breathe as we burst out of it, Luke’s momentum carrying us a hundred feet inward before we finally landed.

At first glance, we seemed to be in a grand hall, of sorts, like the manors of Sylvarus often used as an entrance. It was open, with several levels accessible with curved staircases carved into the walls, and bannered landings overlooking the hall. Open corridors led into the depths of the mountain at every level. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, bathing the interior in flickering light, with more crystals embedded in the walls. The lack of windows made the light feel cold and unnatural.

Fable growled from the center of the hall, surrounded by white-cloaked soldiers, the golden sigil of the inquisitors emblazoned on their tabards. There were two dozen of them, moving with practiced ease and discipline as they slowly circled the wolf. Their souls glowed brightly, putting them stronger than any of the other soldiers we’d seen in the city beyond.

”Kill the demon!” one of them, a man with a plumed helmet, shouted. ”Don’t let it get below!”

Their shouts echoed off the walls as they charged, unleashing sun-laced spells and techniques. Fable didn’t bother dodging, letting the spells land on the Mirror Sphere, and their weapons pierce his fur. He growled in pain as blood spurted from countless wounds, lashing out with his claws and teeth. Screams rang out as he sent soldiers flying, blood arcing through the air. Their spells reflected, ravaging their back lines and throwing them into disarray.

Luke set me on my feet, but I grabbed his arm, hugging it tightly. His eyes flashed with irritation as he turned toward me, but his expression softened as he took in the pallor of my face and the tremors running from horn to tail. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close, holding me close.

”I didn’t know you were so claustrophobic,” he murmured.

I nodded, finding his voice soothing amid the screams and occasional aftershock. When I could stand on my own, the terror receding, the battle was already over. Fable stood in a circle of carnage, his claws and fur soaked with blood. His wounds had already knit shut, with even the scars fading away to nothing.

”Come on,” Luke said, taking my hand, facing the hall. ”This is only the beginning.”