The Forsaken Hero

Dreams found me that night, tied up against the rough bark of a callous tree. Dreams, not nightmares. I expected nightmares, for it was always those that filled the cracks between visions.

I dreamt I was back in the meadow, or rather, what had become of the meadow after R’lissea’s power destroyed it. New hills, mountains, and bottomless chasms broke apart the heavy forests. The stillness in the moments before I’d gone had descended in chaos once more. Fatesworn and demons fought for every ridge and valley. Their blood dyed the violet rivers red, and their power tore new holes in the forest. Life Magic still pulsed through every glade and brush, but the effect was dim. My dream had no Oracle of Eternity to guide me beyond that simple observation.

The dream flowed like water, carrying me as if on the wings of a bird. Over mountains, and groves tainted with violet life magic, and rivers laced with seeping venom. It was strange, seeing such fantastical terrain without being able to see the mana that caused it, roiling just beneath the surface. It left me feeling half-blind and more than a little disoriented.

The world stilled as I flew past a small group of Fatesworn hunting a fleeing pack of fire demons. The temperature plummeted, and the night darkened. Even the breeze held its breath, as if afraid of drawing attention to itself.

A violet comet pierced the hovering clouds, streaking over the mountains with velocity that reduced it to afterimages. The forest rippled where it struck the ground, and a heartbeat later, a roar sounded in my ears. Even though it was just a dream, I still felt the tug of the blast wave.

I knew that light, and followed it. The impact site was a familiar hill, raised in the aftermath of R’lissea’s magic. The trees had been flattened, and dozens of demon corpses were scattered across the slopes. A single figure stood at the peak, looking down on a battlefield.

Luke. A thrill seized my chest. Just like in a vision, the dream responded, taking me onto the hilltop.

The ground was littered with the colossal remains of Death Blooms and evolved demons. Faint swirls of light rose from the ground like mist, the lingering fingerprints of dozens of spells and techniques.

Luke’s armor was tattered and broken, his clothing ripped beyond repair. I couldn’t see his soul, but the shadowy tendrils that often wreathed him were gone. And yet, I couldn’t find a single injury on him. He stood tall and unbent, his expression calm and unreadable. He looked surprisingly ordinary, not like he’d been fighting for his life, as his garb showed.

It was unnerving. An interpretation of my dream, maybe?

There was a shallow vale at the peak of the hill. More demon corpses were piled within, choked by thorny vines. Flowers, with soft white petals, peeked between pools of tepid blood and viscera, growing denser closer to the center of the vale. Luke followed them, his feet a few inches from the ground, until he touched down before a fallen Death Bloom. It was easily over twenty feet tall, speckled with blood and gore. It must have weighed hundreds of pounds, but he brushed it aside as easily as he might a loose hair. It rolled a few dozen feet before slamming into some fallen trees, splitting the trunks.

My heart skipped a beat as R’lissea was revealed, tucked within the hollow space the Blossom had protected. Soft vines had entwined themselves around her body, hugging her protectively. She was covered in blood and lacerations. Her veins burned the same black mine did, and the skin around the cuts was ashen gray. Her chest rose and fell with shallow, uneven breaths.

Luke flew to her side. His boots crunched wetly as they landed in the vines, and suddenly, dark tentacles burst from the ground. They tore through the plant covering, revealing more demons, crushed and suffocated by the vines. I gasped as a tendril picked up a humanoid demon with long, curved talons and a sickly hue to its skin. It was obvious what had drawn Luke’s attention. R’lissea’s staff, bristling with long, dagger-like thorns, pierced its chest, running through it as surely as any blade.

With a wave of his hand, Luke tossed Hag’s corpse aside. He knelt by R’lissea, carefully extracting her from the vines. She shifted at his touch, her eyes fluttering weakly.

"L-Luke...?" she murmured.

"I’m here. What happened? Where is Xiviyah?"

R’lissea shuddered, tears welling up in the corner of her eyes. "He...he came out of nowhere."

There was no change in Luke’s demeanor, but the shadows suddenly felt darker. "He?"

"Alex..." She whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut. A tear escaped, running down her cheek. "I...I tried so hard, but...just like before, I wasn’t enough..."

"The fire hero? Here?"

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

"No, you did enough. Rest, R’lissea. I’ll take it from here."

I’d never heard Luke speak so tenderly to anyone else before. He rarely even took that tone with me. But his gentility was unmistakable as he carefully laid her back into the bed of vine and leaves.

Luke took one more look around the hollow before his eyes narrowed, and his black sword appeared in his hand. More shapes emerged from the tree line, and this time, I recognized them. It was the Star Guard, and to my relief, Fable. Luxxa leaned on Kahlen’s shoulder, while Gith and Jenna were unconscious on my wolf’s back. They were bloodied and battered, limping and unsteady on their feet, but alive.

"Lord Apostle," Kahlen said.

"You failed."

An observation, not an accusation.

"The Fire hero appeared. We were unable to withstand their assault, though we slew some of his party. They had some magic that isolated Lady Xiviyah and bound her soul." Kahlen’s eyes glittered, regarding Luke coldly.

Luke stiffened slightly, closing his hand into a fist. "I’m going after her."

"It’s too late. They should be at the Divine Throne by now. That we’re alive at all means they don’t want her dead. It would be wiser to coordinate with the Lord of Ash and prepare an assault. If that’s even possible after tonight," Kahlen said.

"My horde is broken, and two of my apostles are dead. The Lord of Ash is engaged with the demon lord of death, and the Fatesworn and other heroes are caught in battle. There are no forces to gather, no rescue to plan." Luke released a long breath and lifted his fist, letting it loosen. He stared at his hand, his fingers trembling slightly. Tender, uncalloused fingers. New flesh I had regenerated just a day before, because his old hand had been taken by Fate.

Shivers wracked my soul, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. Luke had lost his hand, the very hand that had worn the Soul Binder. The hand that Alex had pulled from the ruined battlefield. I hadn’t recognized it then, but...gods, fate itself had been trying to warn me. Everything had. From the emptiness inside to the golden band on Alex’s finger. I had missed it all.

"Fable, with me. You, demon, guard the Life Hero."

"You’re still going?"

"The Fatesworn will retake this area soon. Do not let her die. I have a debt that I must repay to her first," Luke said.

Fable growled and let Jenna and Gith slide off his back.

"Wait, Luke..."Luxxa moaned, forcing her eyes to focus on him. "You can’t fight the whole church alone. Lady Xiviyah wouldn’t..." she coughed blood. "She wouldn’t want you to throw your life away for her."

"Then there will be one more thing for me to beg her forgiveness for."

He grabbed a hold of Fable’s scruff and vaulted onto his back. Fable howled and shot forward. They vanished into the night before Luxxa could say more, or any of them could protest. They were gone, racing off on a mad, hopeless chase.

I awoke with a start, letting out a strangled gasp. My heart thudded in my chest, and tears ran freely down my face. My entire body was numb from winter’s chill, which my ragged dress offered little protection against. My shoulders and arms were heavy with fatigue from being twisted over my head, but Marge hadn’t been lying. It could have been so much worse.

But wasn’t it? Luke thought I was at the Divine Throne. He would charge in, reckless and indignant, just like he always did. Flying right over our heads because Alex had gotten lost. How...ridiculous.

I blinked away my tears, uncertain whether they were for naught. After all, that had just been a dream. Maybe it was just what I secretly hoped for, my mind trying to comfort me. I really did wish that Luke was some dashing hero leaping in to save me.

The more I thought about it, the more likely that seemed. Luke was fighting Rash’alon, who was stronger and more experienced than him. And Luke was weakened by oblivion. He might not even survive, much less be in a place to look for me. His priority would be reclaiming the horde. It was the only chance he had at retaining enough strength to fight the church.

The forest was still dark and shadowy. The storm had thickened, blotting out the sky, but I had the feeling dawn was still some hours away. So what had awakened me? I was so tired I could have slept for a week straight, and yet...

The pack of my neck prickled, and I shifted, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. Never mind the chill, or that I was hopelessly exposed. Something else was off.

There was someone watching me.