The Forsaken Hero

Golden light exploded from the magic circles, washing across the sky in a shimmering veil of starlight. It separated the heavens from the earth, dyeing Soltair’s aura gold as it streamed across the battlefield. Demons and mortals paused in the midst of the blood and carnage, staring up at the sky in awe and unease. For a single, breathless heartbeat, the world was quiet.

I wobbled, resting heavily on my staff, barely managing to stay on my feet. One eighth-circle spell never could have covered such a vast area with the potency I needed. It had taken an entire array of Shining Aegis.

The effect was gradual, settling over me like a gentle summer breeze. My horns stopped itching, the tremors left my limbs, and the chills departed. I took a deep breath, tasting the familiar breeze of Haven’s atmosphere.

The war resumed in scattered disarray, demons recovering first. Though they weren’t Fatesworn, they had tasted of my power before, and it drove them mad with desire. Thousands turned toward the peak, sensing the epicenter of the thick divine mana arrayed overhead.

With thunderous shouts and battlecries, the Divine Army rallied against them, but this time, their battlelines wavered. They turned to the skies, praying for the hero’s spirit to descend upon them, but the only answer was warm, gentle starlight. The harsh rays of the sun broke against the Shining Aegis, turned back by its reflective power.

I didn’t need to fight a war. I didn’t need to match Soltair’s power.

The first fort gave way just seconds after the demons renewed their assault. Flames cascaded into the air as an eighty-foot-tall behemoth of a blade demon crashed through the gates, swiping an arm the size of a tree across the top of the wall, sowing death in its wake. The surviving archers and mages screamed as the parapet caved beneath their feet, toppling into the trenches and being trampled by the onrushing demons.

Mana cannons fired wildly, but the demons poured into the defenses like an ocean wave, flooding through gaps, trampling defenders. Humans retreated, but many weren’t quick enough, falling before claw and fang, having their lives’ blood torn from their chests. I shuddered at the sight. Fyren had once said many demons enjoyed feasting on the flesh of the souls they consumed. None of the Fatesworn did, but...maybe that was just my influence. It was a terrible sight.

I turned at the sound of a shriek, flinching as BOrealis swooped around me in a tight loop. His wings flared as he landed on my shoulder, kicking up a breeze that stirred my hair. I smiled despite myself as he nuzzled my cheek, reaching up to scratch his chin.

Fyren alighted beside us. ”The inquisitors won’t bother you anymore. By the looks of it, nothing will.”

”Except the demons,” I muttered, looking back at the battle.

As the humans fell back to the city, the demons rolled forward. Packs of scions and weaker evolved demons turned their beady eyes on us, rushing the ridge in disorganized ranks.

”Not a single one above the fifth level,” Fyren murmured, hefting his sword. ”That must be the threshold of power before the Apostle personally enforces his will on them.”

”Should we retreat?” I asked worriedly. The last thing I wanted was to prune Luke’s army. We’d need every scion when we took the fight to the Divine Throne.

His brow furrowed as he watched the horde approach, a few hundred demons now, and shook his head. ”We can’t take you far from the focus of the spell, or risk it fracturing. Don’t fret. None of them will reach you.”

He spoke with determined grit, and I nodded, deciding to trust him. Fable paced across the slopes, assuming his true form again. That forced many of the evolved demons back, but a few bold scions ignored him, charging up the ridge. A slap of his paw decimated an entire pack, and the rest fell back, snapping at him furiously.

I let out an uneasy breath, turning my attention to the sky. I twisted my staff in my hands, anxiously chewing on an errant strand of hair. Luke and Soltair were diffused to a blur through the colored Aegis. Waves of energy rippled across the upper bounds of the spell, the only sign of the shockwaves and impacts that tore the skies asunder.

Had they noticed what I’d done? Did they realize what it meant? My tail twitched as I thought about it, praying they hadn’t. My power was too spread out. If Soltair really wanted to, he could break it like glass. I needed Luke to buy us more time.

”The Fatesworn have breached the city Lord’s keep,” Fyren said suddenly, causing my head to snap toward him.

That was where Trithe’s father was. She’d spoken of him often during our travels. But I’d never seen so much as a painting. I felt nothing, just nodded. ”Tell them to secure it, and accept anyone who surrenders as a prisoner. Is the shard there?”

Another nod, and I hesitated.

”Infernal Law dictates that the horde that claims the shard may reap its bounty, unless another horde challenges it in combat,” Fyren said.

”Infernal Law?” I tilted my head. Since when had there been such a thing?

”Common consensus, really. It’s one of the few ground rules that exists for invasion, but it’s not uncommon to see it broken.”

”Then offer it to one of the Fatesworn,” I said. ”Better that than let it go to someone else.” Now that Luke had broken through, I couldn’t care less where they went.

”Understood. I’ll ask Bethiv to begin to withdraw from the city with any prisoners and refugees they’ve secured. Once the demons enter, they won’t care about friend or foe, much less the difference between soldier or civilian.”

I gave him a grateful nod. Strange, he was being so considerate, but he probably just assumed that was what I wanted. He wasn’t wrong, but the question still loomed: what were we going to do with those we’d conquered?

The Divine forces’ retreat splintered as the minutes passed, with many abandoning their stations to flee the demonic tide. But it was already too late. Thousands were cut off from the routed force, abandoned to the horrors of the horde. They quickly encircled, broken, and torn to shreds.

A sharp warning sounded in my soul. Fyren jerked at the same time, throwing himself between me and the city. There was a rush of gold and an explosion of sunlight that swept over the ridge, scouring it to bedrock. I screamed as it enveloped us, but Fyren held up his hand, conjuring a shield of white fire that encircled the peak, shielding us. What wisps made it through were quickly dissolved by Adaptive Resistance.

Just as the light broke, and Fyren’s art fell, a deafening roar shook the mountain. Luxaria, clothed in her draconic visage, lunged at us from below, accelerating with every beat of her wings. The Star Guard raced after her, but she easily left them behind, exerting her superior size and power.

Fyren slashed his sword, releasing an arc of ash at the incoming dragon. She tucked her wings and rolled out of the way, leaving only a single smoldering trail where her wing had been moments before. She regained her bearing, snarling as she lunged.

Fyren reached for my shoulder, but Fable was faster. He leaped over our heads, tackling her midflight. Though slightly smaller, his weight dragged her to the ground, sending the two crashing into the rocky slope. The resulting dust cloud enveloped them both, rapidly growing into billowing plumes as they scratched and snapped at each other, shaking the earth fiercely.

With a howl and roar, they broke apart. Fable landed deftly on his feet, looming over us, while she remained at the bottom of the mountain, glaring up. After a single tense heartbeat, she stretched her wings and launched into the air. Fable and Fyren tensed, but she flapped hard, fighting for altitude.

Too late did I realize what she was doing. I cried out, pointing my staff, but the dragon flapped her wings once more and put on a burst of speed. She rose a thousand feet in an instant, a comet of gold streaking across the sky. She tucked her wings and spun, smashing into the Shining Aegis.

There was a tremendous explosion as her light met my own, sending a wave of heat and power rippling outward. A huge crack shot through my spell like lightning, racing across the sky, fracturing and crumbling the foundation I’d worked so hard to create. It splintered and exploded, raining golden stars across the battlefield.

Soltair’s power burst through the crumbling Aegis like the sun after a storm, descending on the battlefield. Demons hissed and shivered as it painted their scales, hunching to evade its warmth. I shuddered as it touched my skin, my horns itching. Hot tingles raced down my tail, and I curled it, keeping it close.

”Damn it,” Fyren cursed, slashing his sword through the air in frustration.

I nodded, barely holding back a curse of my own. Still, the damage had been done. Demons poured into the city, overthrowing the last established defenses. The Divine Army had routed and fled deeper into the mountain pass toward mainland Radia.

But, as I looked up, I felt anything but triumphant. Luke and Soltair were visible again, dueling across the sky. I could only pray we’d done enough.