The Forsaken Hero

My heart sank a little as my companions left in a rush of mana, breaking through the swarming demons, and I devolved into another fit of coughing.

"Let’s get to higher ground. My aura won’t keep them at bay forever," Fyren said, observing the hostile demons around us. They had easily pushed back the few hundred of Luke’s horde in the first second of combat, and now probed his defenses, looking for a moment to strike.

R’lissea sprouted a pair of translucent wings, picking me with embarrassing ease. It caught me off guard every time to see someone that looked as slender and delicate as me demonstrate so much strength.

We arrived back at Avrass’s watch, overseeing the entire battle from the top of the mountains. Demons seethed like the sea during a storm, crashing against each other with the ebb and flow of monstrous waves. Across the battlefield, Fable assumed his true form and pounced on the ice demon. It roared and reared up, waving its wings and releasing a torrent of crystalline ice, but the wolf cut through it like a fish in water. They rolled across the battlefield, snapping and snarling, crushing entire packs of demons beneath their bulk. A streak of lightning flitted around, finding opportunities in the brawl to slip through and deliver terrifying blows of charged electricity, which shockwaves reached even our remote overlook.

Without an eyecatching monster like Fable, I lost track of the rest of my companions, but I could feel their souls pulsing warmly in the bond. Almost, they replaced the hollowness where Luke should have been.

A few demons made their way toward us, but were sniped by the Nightwatch before their attributes became clear. A single blade demon, almost fifty feet tall, climbed the cliff by slamming its axe-like limbs into the stone, but Luxxa and Kahlen eliminated it with little effort.

"Fyren, something’s wrong," R’lissea said, easing me into a sitting position.

As she stood, waving for the demon, bile rose in my throat, chasing her warmth away. The world swam, seeming to twist around me, until my vision was completely sideways. Almost, I could feel the cold snow pressing against my head, but that would mean... I must have fallen over. I understood it, but barely felt anything. It was like a dream, like I was watching through the eyes of someone else. Dark, blurry eyes.

"Xiviyah!" R’lissea was in my view again, but I didn’t recognize her. It took a moment to place the face as hers, her words reaching me only a second later. My breathing eased slightly as her aura returned, bringing the warmth back.

"You’re bleeding!" she said, dabbing something soft against my face. Her eyes widened in horror. "From your eyes? And why is it black? Fyren, quick, what’s happening to her? How come she isn’t immune to it?"

"I...I don’t feel very..." I broke in a weak coughing fit. R’lissea wiped more black blood from my lips.

Fyren entered my frame, looking down at me with a worried frown. "What...this isn’t magic. Not demon, true, nor divine."

"Not magic? Then..." She stiffened, cupping my cheek. A flood of life magic raced through me, cold and violent. It scraped through my veins and muscles, rasping like the edge of a knife. I cried out, twisting in her grip, drawing strength I didn’t have in an effort to escape.

"Please, "I sobbed, clutching her dress with trembling fingers. "Stop, please."

The mana stopped, and I collapsed, even more exhasted then before. But something had changed. My mind was a little more present, and the terrible feeling of heaviness had lightened.

"Poison," R’lissea cursed, pulling my sweat-dampened hair out of my face. "But how? Who? When?"

Fyren’s eyes narrowed. "Did you burn it out?"

"No, it...resisted me. I’ve never felt anything do that except for sunpurge and corruption. But I managed to find it, and weakened it a little. IF Xiviyah can bear it, then I should be able to--"

"No!" Fyren shook his head violently. "It must be Hag. Only an immortal could design a poison to resist the magic of the Divine. IF we had caught it quicker, maybe, but it’s too deep in her system. Ripping it out now ight kill Xiviyah outright. But you know what it feels like, now. Can you sense it anywhere else?"

R’lissea pursed her lips, letting a gentle wave of life mana emanate from her. After a second, she blinked. "Something must be wrong with my spell. I can sense it literally everywhere, in every soul, rock, and flake of snow."

"Impossible," Fyren breathed, turning to look down at the warring demons. "She’s insane. Just how long have they been preparing for this moment?"

"I don’t understand."

"They couldn’t use a spell, else Xiivyah would see and resist it. They couldn’t use a blade or needle, else we’d have stopped them. But to diffuse a natural agent through the air itself over such a massive area..." he shook his head. "I’m almost impressed."

"You mean the poison looks very where because--"

"It is everywhere. They took advantage of Xiviyah’s curse, and spread a poison so weak anyone stronger than a third-level would naturally purge it from their system without even being aware it was there. It means it won’t be strong enough to kill her on its own, but..."

They both turned, looking down at me. I tried to smile back, but it didn’t come. The poison, if that’s what it was, had sunk deeper, reaching where it had been before R’lissae intervened. My skin had fallen to an ash gray and was almost translucent. My veins stood out like black worms beneath the surface. I tried reaching for mana, but almost vomited instead. Even touching my soul felt impossible.

R’lissea took a breath. "If it won’t kill her, that means they didn’t intend it to. That’s different than what Rash’alon wanted before, right? He went right for her every time."

"Yes, and even more worrisome," Fyren agreed. "That means they’ve learned something more about the existence of Haven. Rash’alon must want to extract its power before killing her and claiming the divinity."

"But why? What use does a demon lord have for a realm?"

Fyren looked troubled. "That doesn’t matter now. What matters is the wanted to disable Xiviyah. They split up our forces, leaving just the two of us and the few Fatesworn we have here. But Just Hag isn’t..." he froze, turning to stare at the ice demon lord. Fable had forced it away from the horde, his claws leaving massive rends in its flesh, but it didn’t seem to comfort Fyren. "One demon lord isn’t enough to justify how many demons they had. There must be another."

A dark, cold cackle sounded from the darkness, coming from every direction at once. Shivers crawled down flesh already raised with goosebumps, and I huddled closer to R’lissea, blinking more blood from my eyes.

Fyren stood, drawing his sword, turning a half-second before a demon materialized out of the night. It was tall and slender, maybe fifteen feet tall, with pale white skin and long, talon-like claws that extended from its fingers. Its head was vaguely human, but distorted, with oversized eyes and a mouth crammed full of narrow, needlepoint teeth. Its soul radiated an attribute I didn’t recognize, but its power felt ancient, a cunning wisdom in its black eyes. Its voice was slow and throaty, yet sent another wave of shivers down my spine.

"You surprise me, Lord of Ash, seeing through our plans so easily. Rash’alon was convinced your arrogance would blind you."

"R’lissea," Fyren said, using her name for perhaps the first time. "Take Xiviyah and go. All of you, now. I will catch up once I’ve dealt with this."

"Wait, R’lissia said, standing despite her protests. "Isn’t this what he wants? To separate us?"

"I’m afraid we’ll have to play into his hands. Xiviyah’s in no state to be near a death demon right now."

The demon chuckled, that same terrible cackle. "I’m surprised you know my kind. We’re even more rare than whatever in the hells you are."

Fyren’s lips tightened in a smile. "I doubt that. There’s nothing in the hells like me. What could that damned cursed demon possibly have offered to tantalize a lord of the grave into descending?"

"Apostles walk the realm once more. Heroes have forsaken their gods and cleave to halfbreeds. An Elder God has fallen, and her successor stands as a charlatan. The gods have plunged into civil war, and the demons are not far from it. And all this in a single world, revolving around a single soul." His horrible eyes focused on me before returning to Fyren. "And amid all this, there is you. A fire demon that wields flames of white, and bears a soul that has never tasted death. How could such a thing be? What sort of being could exist throughout the eternities without ever once falling in a mortal or infernal realm? Not even gods and emperors stand as you, having lost countless avatars throughout their endless lives. So tell me, I’m simply dying to know."