The Forsaken Hero

"What is he talking about?" R’lissea asked, lifting me into her arms. Wings sprouted from her back. "Fyren, what does he mean you haven’t died? I thought no demon could die."

"I told you to leave," Fyren growled, taking his sword in both hands. "And you, death demon, have known too much. I thought my soul was well-enough shrouded, but I suppose you’ve managed to catch a glimpse. Count yourself lucky it was only that; else I’m afraid just killing you would be too simple."

I thanked the stars when R’lissea finally listened, leading the Fatesworn in a full retreat. We flew toward the distant walls of High Valley, a hundred of the Nightwatch joining us as they left their watches behind. Somewhere ahead, Borealis screeched, flying toward us. It must have been Fyren who had called, because I felt others of the Fatesworn gathering, preparing to reinforce the walls.

"How are you feeling?" R’lissea asked, landing on the ramparts of an outer fort. She breathed more life magic into me, careful to moderate the flow.

I twisted in discomfort, hugging her as tight as my trembling muscles allowed. "I...can’t breathe...it hurts..."

"I know, just be patient. I’m so sorry, I should have noticed. Some life hero I am."

"You...noticed..."

"Too late. How long were you exposed? Twenty minutes?" She shook her head, but despite her complaints, her magic was working. There was a noticeable difference in the weight on my chest, and I felt like I might be able to draw on some mana.

"It’s going to take me forever to purge this--" She froze, jerking up and looking over her shoulder. Her aura flared, catching an opposing aura before it could hit me.

"Wha...?" I mumbled, coughing weakly.

"The Fatesworn will be here soon," she whispered, laying me on the ground, sheltered in the shadow of the bulwark. She waved her hand and cast a fourth-level life spell that clung to me, slowly injecting me with purifying power. "Give it time, but that will bring you back. Avrass, protect her until then. Retreat, if you can."

"That aura..." I whispered. There was something familiar about it. Infernal, and yet....divine.

"It seems not all of the apostles were behind Luke," she murmured, summoning her staff. Her wings flared, carrying her into the air, and she cast one last look at the Nightwatch. "Nothing happens to her. Nothing."

Avrass and his rangers saluted, and she vanished, streaking into the darkness.

"Is that the apostle Kislee?" Avrass asked, knocking an arrow. "What is she doing, siding with the demon lords?"

I didn’t recognize the name. Vaguely, in the back of my mind, I knew there was another apostle, one I hadn’t really met. But there was no face attached to it, no attribute, nothing. Like someone had carefully erased anything related to her.

I struggled into a sitting position, shivering as infernal mana washed over us. Demons were approaching quickly.

Avrass noticed my reaction and frowned, casting his gaze out into the darkness. His eyes narrowed. "Damn it all, where did they come from? Another reserve?"

"It’s not just that one," The curse demon hissed, "I’m sensing three more packs headed toward us. They come from elsewhere in the mountains."

"An ambush. We need to retreat. Evelin, take the Oracle. Carefully, now."

A female elf ranger slung her bow across her back and scooped me up. She flinched as I coughed, leaving flecks of black blood across her leather armor.

"I’m sorry, my lady," she said. She was young, and judging by the tremble in her voice, inexperienced, even for an elf.

The other Nightwatch released arrows, sending starlight shafts lancing through the dark. A few seconds later, explosions lit the night almost a mile away, and the approaching presences lessened. The distance surprised me. They could see that far?

We left the position after they loosed another volley, flying further up the mountains. We were still a few miles from High Valley when Borealis reached us, followed by almost a hundred more of the Nightwatch. With them were several dozen Fatesworn dressed in heavy armor and wielding spears and swords.

"Grand Captain Avrass, reporting as ordered!" a sixth-level warrior said, saluting sharply.

"Good, just on time. We just spotted flying demons in the sky, and one of them is eighth-level. Too risky to make a run for the valley, so we’re holding here," Avrass said. "Get a defensive line established. And please tell me Commander Bethiv has more reinforcements inbound."

"Yes, sir! Grounded troops are two minutes away, with a full battalion of heavy infantry and a detachment of the Empyrean Order."

Grounded troops. Those who weren’t strong enough, or hadn’t yet mastered the ability to fly. As for what heavy infantry meant, I had no clue.

Avrass looked relieved. "Thank Fate. Now get moving!"

The Fatesworn jumped into action. The terrain was rough and rocky, with a few sloped bluffs butting up against the cliffs. Evelin took me to a tower directly under the mountain’s shadow, where Avrass had set up command. The rangers scattered across the other towers and walls, while the warriors took their positions below.

Not thirty seconds after we touched down, the ground shook, and a titanic seventh-level beetle-like demon crawled over the lower cliffs, charging toward us. Hundreds of scions and weaker evolved demons raced after it. Magic matching the signature of the unknown apostle, Kislee, Avrass said, wreathed them, granting them an entire extra level of strength.

The beetle screeched as arrows pelted its carapace, but Kislee’s magic kept all but Avrass’s from penetrating. It crashed through a wall, and the Fatesworn leaped at it, but its fifty-foot height made it hard to battle. One managed to climb up its side, but a taloned leg slashed him across the chest, throwing him into the cliffs behind us. A Nightwatch rushed to him, and I was surprised to see them cast a second-level healing spell. Was that part of their training as well?

Demons flooded into the chaos caused by the beetle. Almost all of them were insect demons, with terrible, scythe-like claws and clicking mandibles. Their carapaces hid wings that let them make short bursts of flight, closing the gap between them and their prey in the blink of an eye. For a second, the Fatesworn were pushed back. Few fell, but the warriors bled from numerous wounds, and the rangers had a hard time getting enough space from their flying opponents to fire effectively.

"Let me go," I whispered, calling for my mana. The act caused bile to rise in my throat, but I forced it down.

"B-But my Lady!" Evelin protested, "You’re not–"

"Please."

She hesitated a moment longer before Borealis screeched at her. She set me on my feet, gingerly, like she expected me to fall immediately. As humiliating as it was, being held by a stranger, my knees trembled, and would have buckled without her support. The poison had sunk deep into every muscle and vein, and though R’lissea’s magic was helping, it was too slow.

But my soul was supported by the Soul Binder, not only my flesh, and the poison was explicitly physical, which left it mostly untouched. Summoning my staff imposed a minor headache, but I pushed the pain aside. This much was nothing.

"Grand Nexus," I whispered. Casting an eighth-circle spell at this point would have been impossible, but it was already active. All I had to do was weave it around the souls of my Fatesworn. The magic found them easily, drawn to the taint of Haven laced within their souls.

When the connection was established, the spells entwined in the Nexus opened to them. Golden light flashed around them, each of the nearly three hundred soldiers acquiring eight-level wards and the full power of Adaptive Resistance.

The battle shifted in an instant, like the Fatesworn had been waiting for this moment. There was no testing the waters or seeing how far my protection went. The seventh-level warrior who had greeted us before leaped from the ground onto a tower, kicking off its walls and lunging directly at the beetle. He flew almost two hundred feet before slamming into its back like a pebble. His mana exploded into his sword, forming a massive, golden blade that somehow found one of the gaping holes Avrass’s arrows had left behind.

The beetle shrieked with insectoid chitter as the plate of carapace shattered, the wing beneath torn into shreds. It flicked a spiked leg backward, catching the warrior before he could get his balance, but the massive, ten-foot limb froze the instant it touched my wards, straining in vain against it. The warrior didn’t even flinch, like he had expected it to stop without so much as nudging him, and hacking down, hewing it off at the joint.

Across the cliffs and rocky bluffs, the Fatesworn cut through the demons. Without concern for their own health and safety, for they had perfect faith in my magic, they slaughtered thousands of bugs over the next few minutes. Any ground they lost was regained and held, an unbreakable bulwark against the tides of chitinous flesh and ichor.

Even the titanic beetle, with close to eighth-level strength, was forced back as Nightwatch arrows exploded in the gaps created in its armor, tearing into its vulnerable flesh. The warriors herded it back, and one of Avrass’s seventh-level arts took a clove of fire through its mouth, erupting out of its back. With a wail, it crashed against the cliff, crushing a hundred lesser demons beneath its weight, and shuddered, going limp.

"Regroup, heal up, and stand ready!" Avrass’s voice roared across the quieting battlefield. "Three more packs are en route, and our reinforcements are still minutes out. We are all that stands between them and our Lady. No retreat, no surrender, no quarter. For the Oracle!"