The Forsaken Hero

Fable carried me down the mountains, dropping over cliffs and landing lightly in the groves covering each steppe. Jasrin sent a wind spell after us, chasing the snow back into his footprints and smoothing over the snowbanks, wiping away any trace of our passage. I looked up at the ridge as we left him, finding his stalwart silhouette watching me. He turned and vanished over the edge.

Our path took us near the fort, and Fable dropped into a crouch, stalking silently down the last few rises. The guards stood at their post, just a few hundred feet away. Their souls were invisible to me, hidden in the massive amounts of mana radiating from the golden mist inside.

The crunch of Fable’s paws carried clearly in the utter silence, and I ducked low. Surely they heard us. Any second now, their heads would turn, and the alarm would go up.

I flinched at a sudden crash, my tail going rigid. One of the guards had fallen forward, face-planting on the rough-hewn road. His companion didn’t react, standing tall and stiff, leaning slightly back against the tower walls.

It didn’t make any sense. Had he fallen asleep? Had they both?

I didn’t question our good fortune, breathing a sigh of relief as Fable jumped over the wall. It was low and shoddy compared to the fortresses we had taken in months past. Fable landed lightly without so much as a jostle on the other side. More guards were scattered around the perimeter of the valley, far away from the golden mists. None of them reacted. Most were slumped over on the ground, their heads bowed, or leaned against barracks walls.

My curiosity got the better of me, and I urged Fable closer to one. He nudged a guard with his paw, turning him over, and I gasped, covering my mouth. Blood ran from a jagged hole in his throat where something had punched through his chainmail. The color of his face had faded to a pale grey, and his eyes stared blank and empty.

My head whipped around, and I stared at the other guards. There must have been twenty of them just at this single position, and not a single one moved. Were they all...dead?

The shock wore off as Fable paced away from the gate, heading deeper into the fort. There were more corpses scattered around, blood streaked across the ground. Every expression was frozen in shock and horror. Not a single one seemed to have drawn a sword or run to their comrades’ aid.

As we neared the inside walls, I received another jolt of surprise. A large, motionless heap of feather and steel lay on the ground, half-crushing a small well-house. A noble beak gaped breathlessly, and the wings were splayed, revealing a bloody hole in its chest. It, and its rider, were also dead.

I stared upward, searching the skies, and found none of the griffons I expected. The skyship had listed, keeping starboard at a sloppy angle. If they didn’t correct it soon, it would veer directly into the cliffs. From my experience on the elves’ ships, there should have been shouting and sailors running across the deck.

Silence. Steep, unnerving silence.

”Let’s go,” I mumbled, shivering as I patted Fable’s back.

His tail flicked in acknowledgment, and he padded off again, passing several more fallen griffons before reaching the inner gates. For some reason, they were even bigger than the outer had been, with seventh-level wards woven into the stone and portcullis. All of the artillery was aimed outwards, toward the billowing banks of golden mist.

”Were they trying to keep us out? Or something else in?” I asked softly, a shudder running down my tail. I didn’t want to find out, but we didn’t have a choice.

Fable leaped the wall with ease, leaving the grisly corpses and unnatural silence behind us. Just beyond the gates, the edge of a magic circle was inscribed in the ground. It glowed faintly with red light and was thinner than my hand, but its scope was enormous, vanishing off to either side of us into the darkness. With the Oracle of Eternity, I could see its power extended into the air, forming a massive dome over the entirety of the valley.

I slid off Fable’s back, landing in the snow. My boots sank to the laces, almost six inches deep. I quickly caught myself and turned to him. I took him by the scruff, resting my forehead against his.

”This is as far as we go,” I whispered, closing my eyes. ”Once I figure out what’s going on here, I’ll find a way for you to sneak through.”

He whined softly, pawing my side.

I smiled sadly, stroking his fur. ”Don’t worry. I’ll be alright.”

I stepped back, letting my fingers trail through his fur, and gave a small, determined nod. Then I turned on my heel and crossed into the circle. The thin membrane of mana stretched and ripped around me. A small shiver ran through fate, radiating through the circle. It stabilized a heartbeat later, and the bubble reformed, with me on the other side. I gave Fable a small, timid wave, and then turned, took a deep breath, and headed toward the mists. Behind me, he turned silently and retraced his steps, vanishing back over the wall.

High Valley had been a small town in this great valley the last time I’d visited, split on either side of a river that ran through the middle. The land around it had carried a few farms and fields, but was relatively unremarkable. Nothing had changed, save that it was now winter. And I was alone.

I reached the mists after a few short minutes and was already out of breath. Laboring through the deep snow was exhausting, and out of all the spells I’d learned, not one of them was particularly helpful. A mistake I would remedy the instant I returned to Haven. The library had to have something that made trudging easier.

As I reached the veil of light, my pace slowed. Billowing arms of starlight reached out to me, caressing my skin. I exhaled softly, my heart warming with the gentle embrace. It beckoned me on, my feet moving on their own accord. The snow vanished beneath my feet, turning to soft grasses and the occasional grove of trees. The leaves glittered with magic and golden light, the trunks wreathed in the mists.

I lost track of how long I walked, drawn into the light. Visibility was limited, but I didn’t need my eyes to feel where I was going. The air grew warmer, losing the chill of winter. At some point, the mists thinned, and I emerged from the rolling banks of stars.

Before me was a lake that seemed to flow with liquid starlight, glittering like a shining gem. A large river fed it, the same one that had fallen into the valley, with another river draining away. The water was miles across, the edge forming a perfect circle. Light mists danced across the surface, driven by a warm, astral breeze.

A single island floated in the center, spanning a hundred feet across. The shimmering haze cloaked it, but I could make out what looked like a steeple rising from a peaked roof, and several smaller buildings surrounding it.

More buildings were scattered along the lake’s perimeter, organized into several loose villages. The homes had crude, wooden walls and thatched roofs. Unwalled gardens and fields bristled with crops on the edge of harvest, defying the winter that swirled outside the mists. People: humans, demonkin, and beastkin, moved to and fro. A bearkin sat on the edge of the lake, fishing. A female demonkin with short hair beat a rug with a stick, chasing the dust out. A human with a stump for a left arm used a rake in a garden, tending vegetables.

Laughter floated through the air, and I smiled faintly as I saw a group of children and youth running through the dirt paths of the nearest village, not three hundred feet away. My smile slipped when I noticed one of the boys, a foxkin with a reddish fox tail and fox ears twitching at the sound of the children’s games. Purple lines and runes showed through the loose laces of his shirt. A slave crest.

My chest tightened as I stumbled back a step, my tail curling. If there were slaves, then there was a master. Had some Radian noble taken up in the aftermath of my escape, and created this private escape? Had I been lulled by the warmth and familiarity of the mists?

A sudden cry caused my heart to leap into my throat. The children had noticed me and were now running toward me. I raised my hand instinctively, fear prickling my flesh, readying a spell, but couldn’t bring myself to strike preemptively. They weren’t even awakened yet, not even first level. But what if it was a trap?

I retreated a few steps as they drew near, but they didn’t seem to notice my lashing tail. They clustered around in a circle of laughter and smiles, calling out to me all at once. I could barely keep up with what they were saying, but the excitement was obvious.

”Yay! Another one! It’s been forever since we got a beastkin!” a girl cried, clapping her hands delightedly.

”Yeah! And her hair is so pretty!”

”Is she hurt? Why is her dress ripped?” a catkin boy asked.

”Quiet, all of you,” the foxkin slave from before said, pushing through.

He was older than I thought, with brown hair, a sharp chin, and toned muscles peeking under his shirt. Maybe older than me. His soul, unlike the others, was actually at the fourth level, and I didn’t miss the sword hanging on his hip.

He gave me a crooked smile that faltered when I tensed, and he reached forward, grabbing two of the younger children who pressed me and pulling them back.

”That’s enough, you’re scaring her. Remember how hard it was when you first made it?” he scolded them gently.

Giving me an apologetic look, he extended his hand to me. Our eyes met, and I froze, my breath catching in my throat. His eyes were a bright, piercing grey, like sunbeams cutting through storm clouds. I didn’t recognize him, but those eyes...

My eyes grew wet, and I touched my cheek, a lump forming in my throat. Tears? But...why?

I couldn’t explain it, but something about this man, his warm, gray eyes, the silky fur of his tail...something about him made my heart feel hollow. Something made me ache for the warmth of Luke’s arms and his shoulder to cry on.

The fokin’s brow furrowed at my reaction, but he kept his hand extended. His tone softened, like he was speaking to a frightened animal. ”Sorry about this. I’m Rylam. Please, be at ease. Whatever you’ve been through, you’re safe now. Welcome to High Valley.”