The Forsaken Hero

Luke rested at the Firstlight Inn, bedded in the room I normally slept in. he lay sprawled across the heavy woolen covers, still dressed in his armor and covered in blood and grime. Pale, pink flesh peeked out from the gaps and holes in his armor, free of scar or sunpurge.

I smiled fondly as I watched his sleeping face and the rise and fall of his chest. Reaching out, I brushed his cheek, whispering a simple water spell. Blood, dirt, and ash faded from his armor and skin, leaving his handsome face clean and clear.

I took his hand, gripping it loosely, running my small, delicate fingers over his large ones. They were rough and calloused, but warm.

As I caressed him, his eyes fluttered, and he groaned, shifting over the sheets.

”Sleep,” I whispered, pushing a soothing flow of Life Mana through his hand and into his restless muscles. ”I’ll take care of everything. Just rest, alright?”

His breath steadied, and I raised the back of his hand to my lips, kissing it gently. For all my promises, I’d already done everything I could. The rest was up to Fyren, Bethiv, and, regrettably, Luke when he awakened. All I could do now, all I wanted to do, was care for him as he often did me.

I pulled up a chair so I could sit by and continue to hold his hand. I thought I would be content with that, but as the minutes passed, I began to squirm, tracing bored circles on his palm with my fingertip. At some point, as the novelty wore off, my exhaustion made itself known. My eyes grew heavy, and soon, I slumped over him, my cheek resting on his chest.

I startled awake in an unfamiliar area, my hands grasping empty air. I stood bolt upright, my heart pounding, before I recognized the familiar stars drifting across my eyes. A vision.

The scene started familiar, taking me to the mountain heights above the Divine Throne. It was night, but hints of red and pink still dyed the western horizon.

What was unfamiliar was the sprawling skydocs built into the cliffs. Each was a circular platform with a rectangular opening in the center for the ship to rest in. Soldiers and sailors scurried over the piers and docks, loading ships, ferrying cargo on wagons, or working on mana cannons and other gear. There had to be over twenty of them, all bigger and better armed than the elvish fleet.

I stood on an empty skydock on the very edge of the complex, overlooking the white towers of the Divine Throne and the city of Roann beyond. Armies covered the plains like swarms of insects. Thousands of cookfires twirled into the sky, colored with the last light of the setting sun.

A small entourage waited at the edge, consisting of a squad of heavily armored guards, a father, and a figure whose soul warped fate itself. My blood ran cold as I recognized the Pope’s ninth-level aura. They waited silently, gaze fixed on the setting sun.

I glided around them, looking for anything of interest, but there was nothing to see. It was already enough to be here without being blocked.

A few minutes after I settled down to wait, the guard tensed, and the Pope looked up sharply. A golden dot appeared on the horizon. At first, I thought it was just the sun, shooting one final ray before disappearing, but it rapidly swelled. The sound of heavy wingbeats stirred the air, and the light warmed, sending chills through my soul form.

Luxaria broke from the darkness, descending to land on the platform. As her claws touched down, Soltair slid off her back, landing heavily. He staggered a single step before catching himself, his face drawn and haggard. A long cut ran across his cheek. The veins were black and ugly, tainted by curse magic.

”So, you’ve returned in defeat,” the Pope said softly as the sun hero approached.

Soltair’s eyes flickered. ”As the God of Fate has foreseen.”

I frowned at that. God of Fate? Not Verity? What was that supposed to mean?

”Where are the other heroes?”

”Verity escaped, I know that much. But Ronin...” He shook his head. ”I don’t know.”

The Pope nodded slowly, then glanced at the father. ”Have our diviners search for him. We must recover him at all costs.”

”What of the curse apostle? Were you able to slay him?” the Pope asked.

Soltair’s face darkened in a scowl. ”He is powerful, Your Holiness, and while I wounded him greatly, sunpurge no longer holds the same power it did over his kind.”

”Damned filthbloods,” the inquisitor spat, sending a glob of spittle sailing over the edge.

The Pope gave him a distasteful look. ”Yes, our enemies are more powerful than simple demons, now. What did you learn of the betrayer?”

”Xiviyah? She’s a tool of the curse apostle, bound to him with a powerful curse. Who can say how long he’s been controlling and manipulating her? That might even be the reason she betrayed us in the first place. If we kill him, or manage to free her, we might be able to reclaim her power, and Verity won’t have to--”

”A foolish notion,” the inquisitor said, folding his arms. ”The Oracle betrayed humanity of her own will and choice. My brethren made sure of that much in the Dusk Hold before she was given to Lord Byron.”

”I won’t give up,” soltair said, staring at him hard. ”She’s not beyond redemption, I can feel it.”

”So, you were close enough to feel that, but not to claim her yourself? What of when you threw the curse apostle down? Could you not have overwhelmed her defenses?” the inquisitor asked.

Soltair didn’t seem perturbed, calmly shaking his head. ”No, there was another. The demon that disguises itself as a human, the same one that traveled with us for a time.”

”He was but fourth level.”

”Perhaps once, but now...?” Soltair actually shivered. ”I had a feeling that if I were to approach them then, I wouldn’t leave. I don’t understand it, but I have no doubt I made the right decision. That demon is dangerous, maybe even more so than the apostles.”

”I see. We’ll have the archivists look into it. There might be a record or revelation about one of his kind, capable of putting on the skin of a human,” the Pope mused. ”But, for now, we must focus on other matters. The Divine Realms are in utter disarray, and the Council has been silent in my ears. I worry that, should this invasion not be put to rest soon, we may lose our support.”

That caught my attention, and I perked up, staring at the Pope. But the vision scattered before I could learn anything else. Starlight gathered in the darkness, whisking me into another vision. This one was strange, in a realm with mana that chaffed against my soul, completely foreign to Enusia or Haven. A realm of fire and ash, with Divine Mana so pure it burned like smoke.

I felt the presence before the vision revealed it, dropping to my knees at the weight of its aura. I wanted to scream, but my voice had been stolen from me, and all I could do was stare up, trembling, at the titanic man who stood before me. He was dressed in full plate armor, with a long broadsword resting over one shoulder, the blade wreathed in flames. His eyes smoldered with the fury of the sun.

The god, fire, I could only guess, sat on a throne of molten gold overlooking a throne room. Massive columns supported a high ceiling, with statues and burning braziers between them. Dozens of glowing arbiters were positioned around the room, with a single woman with wings of phoenix feathers kneeling before the throne.

”What of Forge?” Fire asked in a roar akin to a blazing inferno. ”Why has he not sent his response?”

The woman bowed lower. ”My Lord, I’m afraid I wasn’t able to question him. I was turned away at the gates of his realm.”

”Damn him,” fire muttered, gripping the armrests of his throne. ”And Thunder?”

Another arbiter stepped forward, their expression black as the first. ”Nothing, my Lord. His realm is closed to us, as well.”

The throne flickered, flames igniting across its polished surface. The nearby Arbiters shied away, and even in vision, I could feel its heat.

”Magic,” fire hissed, standing abruptly. ”Prepare my sword. I will speak to the bastard at once.”

”That might not be wise,” an attendant cautioned. ”King said to--”

”To hell with King! If he wanted me to take his opinion seriously, he would have chosen a side. I’ll not let my vassals slip away to that cowardly god!”

As quickly as it came, the vision vanished. replaced with a sweeping vista in a mortal realm. The mana here was thinner than Enusia’s, but the battle raging beneath me was just as fierce. Tens of thousands of soldiers, wearing armor I didn’t recognize, fought for control of the valley. This was no battle between demon and divine, though. These were two mortal forces clashing, one with banners of the Sun God, another with...Life?

I shook my head, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. A schism within the Divine, a holy war declared between two gods. They schemed and plotted against each other all the time, using heroes and arbiters as pawns, but open warfare? Just what was going on?