The Forsaken Hero

I spent the evening with Rylam, enjoying the quiet peace of High Valley in relative solitude. When I first confessed to him about Aurle, I feared it would change things between us, but it hadn’t. He was as pleasant and warm as ever, maybe even more.

As the sun sank to rest over the mountains, we strolled along the banks of the lake.

"You know," He said, looking out across the glimmering water. "I considered joining the Fatesworn."

I stared at him. "You were?"

"There’s something noble about their mission, and their cause, that really touched me," he said, turning to me.

My cheeks warmed slightly. Wasn’t I their cause? I dismissed the thought with a shake of my head. He didn’t mean it that way.

"But what about the demons? I thought you didn’t want to fight alongside them."

He smiled faintly. "The demons of the Fatesworn are very different from the horde I fought beside up north. They’re...pleasant. Dangerous, but restrained. And honestly, seeing you pet that bird demon makes it hard to see them as vicious monsters."

I giggled, reaching up to touch Borealis’s cheek. He perched on my shoulder, where he’d been since I’d left the gate hours before. "My demons are a little special."

"So I’ve seen," he said, chuckling.

A breeze rose from the lake, caressing my cheek and stirring my hair. It smelled of Haven. I clasped the hand to my breast and looked at him. He returned my gaze with a quiet intensity that brought the warmth back to my face.

"So why didn’t you?" I asked, smoothing a stray lock caught by the wind behind my ear.

"Because it became obvious to me that I wouldn’t be able to help," he said quietly. His ears twitched, and his eyes strayed to the lake. "I’m not even fit to be your guard. Fourth level seemed enough before, but you’ve climbed to a peak I can’t reach. You must have found it silly when I offered to protect you."

"It’s not like that. It doesn’t matter how strong you are."

"It does in a war."

I pursed my lips, my only response the agitated swish of my tail. Looking at him, seeing his fears, the breeze no longer felt so gentle.

"Rylam..." There was a tremor in my voice.

He forced a small smile. "It’s all right, I’ve accepted it. And honestly, after everything, I think that might be for the best. There are other things that I want to do and other differences I can make. Everything doesn’t have to be about killing."

I found myself nodding, letting out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. A small smile showed. "I was worried you might not want to be by me anymore."

"What? That could never be true," he said, grinning.

I lowered my head as he lifted his hand, ruffling my hair, my cheeks stained crimson. Borealis nipped at his hand, startling us both. I ducked away, but he just laughed. After a second, I joined him.

A cough broke and interrupted us, and I whirled, my heart dropping as I finally registered the powerful aura hovering a few steps away. It was Evla, staring at us impatiently, her arms crossed. Her eyes were narrowed at me.

"I’m not interrupting something, am I?"

My cheeks darkened, and I shook my head. "N-no. We’re just, um..."

"I can see what you were doing," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "I just thought you’d be a little more ambivalent."

She didn’t have to explain why. My throat tightened, and the happiness that had built up dissipated. Rylam stiffened beside me, giving me an uncertain look.

I lowered my head, my tail limp. "I can’t live in constant fear," I whispered, biting my lip. "I already tried that."

She tossed her hair. "Whatever."

"But, um, Evla?" I met her gaze again, clasping my hands. "Thank you for helping us. We couldn’t have survived if you hadn’t taken the brunt of their attack. I heard you lost most of your horde."

Her face softened a touch, and she sighed, letting her arms fall. "It was a fair trade, all things considered. That army numbered close to two hundred thousand. With the Fatesworn’s help, we managed to eradicate them. That’s going to hurt the church’s numbers a lot, and make the final battle all the easier. And now that the other hordes are arriving, it doesn’t matter what I lost."

"They’re here?"

"Constance and Edrin arrived last night, and a few demon lords since. Luke’s horde approaches as we speak. That’s why I came to find you."

"He’s here?" My hand went to the ring hanging between my breasts, grasping it tightly. Still empty. "Where?"

The corner of her lips twitched. "Come with me. And bring your guard. Tensions are worse with the demon lords than we feared."

I gave Rylam a tentative look, and he nodded, stepping back.

"Go, I’ll explain it to the others," he said.

I wanted to give him a grateful smile, but I couldn’t manage it through the fear twisting in my gut. Fable padded over, and I climbed onto his back, and in seconds, we were traveling across the valley. Evla flew beside us, her brow pinched. The clouds and mists were thicker and darker than usual, clinging to us as we burst through and left the stars of High Valley.

I barely noticed the carnage immediately, but the stench of rot and death hit me hard. It formed a thick haze over the mountains, mingling with ash and dust. There were hundreds of thousands, maybe even a million, corpses strewn from the mists to the horizon. Demons wandered through, preying on the flesh of the dead and searching for any lingering glimmer of mana.

We crossed the mountains, following the river until it dipped into a deep basin nestled in the lowlands, miles across. Several hordes gathered within, spilling into the surrounding mountains. Luxxa, Kahlen, and the others formed a tight perimeter as we landed on a stretch of open, rocky ground near where the river narrowed into the channel exiting the basin. The rush of water competed with demonic hisses and growls, loud and caustic.

The horde here was small, smaller even than Evla’s. Barely four thousand strong, it lacked the overwhelming presence of scions and was made up almost entirely of evolved demons. Their combined auras made the air swim, and left me feeling nauseous. Or maybe that was just anxiety.

Fyren was already there, waiting for us in his demonic form. His clawed hands were folded against his chest in a humanlike gesture.

"Luke?" I asked, stepping tentatively forward.

There was no answer. The demons hissed and snapped at us, but Fyren and Fable’s auras kept them in line.

"His mark’s on these," Evla said, her voice tinged with worry. "he’s still alive."

I took a deep breath, focusing on my aura. It rose from the ground in golden curls of mist, filling the valley. I was still unfamiliar with this way of entangling with Enusia itself and recoiled at the touch of thousands of tainted souls. Bile rose in my throat, but I gritted my teeth, forcing my senses outward. No wonder Enusia hated these foreign invaders.

A faint glimmer of warmth caught my attention, and I turned, my feet carrying me on their own. The demons parted, revealing a sixth-level curse demon shaped like a large bear with flesh of living shadow. My heart stopped as I saw what it held in its jaws, and I ran forward, seeing nothing else.

"Luke!"

The demon bristled, a low growl rumbling in its throat, but it froze at the sight of something behind me and meekly lowered its head, laying Luke on the ground. What was left of him.

I dropped to my knees at his side, a sob catching in my throat. Luke was badly hurt, that much was obvious, but it was the gray, shadowy tint to his flesh that terrified me. He had faded, with some areas so translucent that I could see the shape of the grass through him, like a remnant.

His right arm was gone, sheared across a perfectly straight line that ran from his shoulder to midway down his torso. The cut glowed with sunpurge, extending veins of stark white across the shadows of his flesh. His chest rose and fell with shallow, uneven breaths, and his eyes fluttered constantly, a reaction to the pain even though he was unconscious.

I took his remaining hand, tears running down my face. He was cold to the touch. His soul was so faint I felt lucky I’d sensed it at all. He barely registered to the Oracle of Eternity.

Evla knelt beside me, a sorrowful look on her face. "Is he going to be alright?"

I sniffled, shaking my head. "I don’t know."

Her lips drew in a firm line, and her eyes glistened before she roughly stood, blinking furiously. "Fix him. You have to."

I was already on it. My magic exploded, forming a thick magic circle beneath us. Tendrils of arcing life and fate mana crawled across his flesh, seeking out the sunpurge, devouring it. Once the last traces of white were gone, I shifted the spell, casting a seventh-level regenerate. Bone formed first, growing out of his side and shoulder, followed by veins, tendons, and nerves. The sight was sickening, but I couldn’t look away, biting my lip as muscle and skin crawled across the limb, covering it again.

"It’s wrong," I whispered, shaking my head as I inspected it. "Why is it still shadowy?"