The Forsaken Hero

”Wait,” I said, pulling from Luke’s grasp.

He looked at me, his tail flicking in agitation. ”What? You’re the one saying we have to hurry.”

”This place must be enormous. We’ll waste too much time,” I said, summoning my staff and soulcasting a sixth-circle spell. ”Earth Sense!”

A pulse of mana emitted from the tip of my staff, spreading across the entrance hall and passing through the walls. A heartbeat later, another issued forth, and then another. My grip on my staff tightened as information began pouring into my mind, a mental picture of winding corridors, passages, and rooms beginning to take shape. I pushed it further than I had in the library, forcing the artificial sense to the edge of my abilities, penetrating the heart of the mountain.

But one mountain wasn’t enough. Darkreign Keep was massive, with dozens of corridors passing the boundaries of what my mind allowed. They followed no pattern in shape or construction, some wandering like rivers or abruptly rising and falling, with only steep stairs to navigate. The rooms were just as irregular, lacking typical uniformity. Many didn’t even have angular corners or flat walls.

”Oww.” I winced, pressing a hand to my forehead as everything began to blur, squeezing my eyes shut. Blocking out my regular senses helped focus my mind, but the spell soon unraveled anyway, leaving me with a throbbing headache.

”Xiviyah? What are you doing?” Luke asked worriedly.

”Nothing. Just ignoring Emlica’s advice again,” I mumbled, rubbing my head. Pushing aside the pain, I soulcast a Memory Projection, creating an illusory three-dimensional map of what I’d seen.

”How did you do that?” he gasped, his eyes widening as he studied the keep layout.

”I picked it up from one of my demons,” I said, my lips tightening. ”The keep was too big, but this should give us somewhere to get started.”

”More than that. Look here,” he said, pointing to the edge. ”This place was definitely carved from a natural cave system. It’s big enough to hide the entire city, if they wanted, but only half of these caverns have actually been chiseled into usable shapes. The further you get from the entrance, the fewer. Even where there are other entrances in the mountains around, they seem mostly unused. Except here.” His finger moved down to a single narrow passage that spiraled down into the earth.

I nodded slowly. It was more of a chute than a corridor, wandering in tight switchbacks set with stairs. It had no offshoots, yet had several small caverns located right off it at suspiciously regular intervals. What’s more, every corner was square, up to the point it had descended out of sight.

”This one’s carved from top to bottom,” Luke explained, confirming my suspicion. ”It’s a straight shot to wherever it’s going. That’s got to be where the shard is.”

”Thank fate,” I said, slumping a little as I released the spell. ”I’m not sure I can handle casting that again. It’s really not made for people.”

”You did good,” he said, reaching out and ruffling my hair. It was a thoughtless action, but our eyes met. His hand rested between my horns a moment too long, and I blushed, looking away.

He cleared his throat. ”Er, right. Let’s go then.”

I mounted Fable, and we sped away. It didn’t take more than three turns for me to completely lose track of where we were. Every corridor looked the same. As Luke guessed, they were mostly natural tunnels, with chisel marks showing where they’d been widened in places. Occasionally, we ran into panicked servants or a squad of soldiers, but they collapsed in semi-conscious heaps as Luke’s aura flowed over them.

Fortunately, Luke never hesitated, moving cautiously but quickly, choosing decisively whenever we came to a staircase or branch. Slowly but surely, we began to descend deeper into the earth. The air grew cool and stale, and my chest a little tighter. I couldn’t help but be reminded of the catacombs beneath the Spire in Blacksand, where Fable and I had desperately searched for a chance against the Lava Dragons. Or the slave caverns of the Circle scattered throughout Heartland and Brithlite. Every time we turned a corner or chanced upon a half-shaped cavern, I braced myself for the sight of chains and cages, only to relax as we passed yet more dusty storage rooms or long-vacant living quarters.

”How old is this place?” Luke wondered aloud.

”Bethiv said he remembered when they built it, but...I don’t know.”

Luke snorted. ”Is that guy really a thousand years old?”

My cheeks colored. ”The church must have reworked an older site. The walls and courtyard above seemed pretty new.”

”Those mana cannons certainly weren’t there before,” he conceded. ”But this entire city is strange. The church must have been incredibly pleased to find an ancient fortress like this to convert to its use. I wonder what kind of war it was originally meant for?”

I could only shake my head. I still couldn’t quite place the sigil I’d seen before, nor had I ever read about such a city in the ancient records of the Divine Throne. Not that had survived Vesna, at least. Whatever it was hadn’t been sanctioned or built by the church, even thousands of years ago.

Shouts and clangs echoed from up ahead, interrupting my musings. Luke raised his sword, gathering mana on the edge of his blade.

We burst into a large cavern, with natural, sloped walls that shone wetly in the flickering light cast from crystals hanging from the ceiling. A heavy woolen rug streaked with mud and footprints lay off-center in the middle of the room. A score of men and women in white cloaks stood in a circle, their souls blazing with the fury of the sun. Their mana flowed into a magic circle, an enchantment of some sort, concentrating into a single man who knelt on one knee in the center. His hands resting on the cross guard of an elegant longsword, driven point-first into the rug. He wore gleaming silver armor, with a blood red cape that shifted in the eddies of mana curling around his body. A chill raced down my tail as my eyes fell upon his soul, goosebumps erupting across my arms and chest.

”Luke!” I cried hoarsely. ”That’s a--”

”Eighth level. I know.”

The white-cloaked figures scattered as Luke’s curse entered the room, diving for their souls. But the circle they’d channeled into flashed brightly, driving the shadows away. Luke’s expression turned grim, and he raised his sword, holding it in both hands.

I looked around, but there were no other exits than the one we entered. ”Luke, its’ a dead end!”

”No, it’s not. There’s a trap door beneath the rug,” he said, his eyes narrowed.

The mages stiffened, eyes flicking anxiously to the armored man, and Luke’s lip twitched in a small smile.

”Knew it. What kind of magic have they given him?” he asked.

I shook my head. ”I don’t know, but it’s strong.”

”Can you do something about it/”

I bit my lip. ”Probably, but...”

”Right, I understand. Then you and Fable go ahead. I’ll hold him here, and follow as soon as I can.”

”A noble sentiment,” the man finally spoke, rising to his feet. His eyes glowed gold, not the comforting of starlight, but the harshness of the midday sun. ”But I’m afraid you’re not qualified to dismiss me that easily.

”I’ve killed an arbiter. Do you really think your threats intimidate me?” Luke asked, stepping forward.

”Ah, you must be the Apostle of Curses, then. You caused quite the stir amongst my fellow inquisitors with that stunt. But I’m afraid you have no demons or emperors to aid you, know. You’ll die before my blade, as pathetic as the previous inhabitants of this city.”

”An inquisitor?” Luke’s grip on his sword tightened.

”Don’t expect more of an introduction than that. I see no reason to waste my name on one who’s already dead.”

”It wouldn’t be worth remembering anyway,” Luke replied just as coldly. ”I couldn’t count how many inquisitors I’ve killed if I tried.”

The inquisitor gestured, and the mages behind him began to cast. Bolts of sun magic filled the cavern, centering on Luke. None of them were strong enough to pierce Adaptive Resistance, but the sudden volume charged the air with sun mana. I suppressed a groan, hugging myself as burning titillations crawled across my skin.

Luke lunged forward, vanishing in a burst of speed. His sword flashed, but the inquisitor was just as fast, raising his blade. There was a loud, grating ring as their swords met, mana exploding around the point of impact. My wards flared, and I cried out, shielding my eyes against the glare. The mages were thrown across the room, slamming into walls. There was the sickening snap of bone and screams as they collapsed, their magic winking out.

Their swords blurred as they exchanged a dozen blows, each clash more powerful than the last. The room was woven with the same protective wards as the rest of the keep, but it still shuddered, flinging trickles of dust and droplets of water from the ceiling. When they broke apart, both panted lightly, and I gasped, covering my mouth. A thin trail of blood ran down Luke’s face from a shallow cut on his right cheek, intersecting his scar.

”Not bad,” the inquisitor said, breaking away and studying Luke. ”But I’m afraid you’re a hundred years too young to challenge me.”