The Forsaken Hero

I cast spell after spell, pouring every bit of Life Magic I knew into Luke’s limp body. When the last circle faded, his flesh positively glowed with soft green luminescence, but nothing could touch the gray, shadowy tint of his flesh. Not even Astral Wind touched him. The problem wasn’t his body, or his soul. It wasn’t anything as far as I could tell. So why wasn’t he better?

I collapsed over him, hugging him, sobbing against his chest.

"Luke," I whimpered, my tears wetting his torn coat. "Please, come back to me."

He didn’t answer.

A heavy hand fell on my shoulder, and I turned, only seeing silhouettes through my tears.

"We need to go," said Fyren’s voice. "The demon lords are closing in."

"But Luke..."

"He’s alive," Evla snapped, sharp enough to make me wince. "You can figure out how to heal him later. If they find him like this, it won’t end easily."

I took a shaky breath, reluctantly letting go as Fyren lifted him from my arms. Borealis shrieked, and I clambered up onto Fable, hiding my face against the back of his neck, trying to stem my tears.

"I’ll tell them something," Evla said, her tail lashing. "You can’t let him die. You can’t!"

I nodded, sniffling, wiping my face with my sleeve. It didn’t do any good, more tears replacing them in an instant. There was a rush of wind as we left the ground, but I barely felt the altitude. My stomach couldn’t knot any tighter than it already was.

It took an eternity for us to reach High Valley. The mists curled forlornly as we pierced them, the stars cold and distant. Everything felt dull and distant, except for the crushing weight pressed against my heart.

Just what had Fate done to him?

At last, Fable landed on the bridge outside the church, padding to the gates. Fyren landed a half-second later, but I was already running into the courtyard. Before I could push through the doors, starlight coalesced, and Haven appeared, blocking my path.

"You cannot take him," he said solemnly.

"What?" I looked back at Luke, held limply in Fyren’s arms. "But he’s dying!"

The spirit didn’t budge. "He won’t survive the gate. His fate is unraveling, and any catalyst, no matter how stable, will pull it apart."

"Go, speak with Fate," Fyren said, standing back. "I’ll watch the apostle here."

Haven vanished, letting me burst into the church. Rodrick waited for me, getting out two words before I brushed past him, vanishing into the gate.

"Haven," I cried as I stumbled into my realm. "Take me to Fate."

My next step landed in the Cathedral, but Arantius alone stood before the shard. He turned, his aura flickering as my panic leeched into the realm.

"Where is she?" I asked, stepping forward.

"Fate has entered the weave. She is beyond this realm, or any, for that matter."

"When will she be back?"

He shrugged. "I cannot say. Time does not work within the weave of Fate according to the laws of any realm. For her, it could be years, or centuries, but in Haven, only a few minutes."

"No! We don’t have that long."

"Your fear for the apostle is justified, but there is nothing you can do. The false god severed his tie to existence, and condemned his soul to oblivion. It’s impressive he has clung to fate for this long, but his end is inevitable. Even were Fate here, she cannot manifest in Enusia, nor can you bring him into Haven."

"Then...can you help? Or Emlica? I can almost call one of you. Just another day. Maybe two."

Arantius hesitated, stroking his chin thoughtfully. My spirits rose, only to plummet as he shook his head.

"I’m afraid there’s nothing we could do. Even in life, I’m uncertain if there are any of us capable of such a feat. The apostle is not dying, so he cannot be healed. His soul is not broken, and is thus unable to be mended. He is struck from fate, and now wanders the paths descending into darkness from which there is no return."

"He won’t be reincarnated again?" I whispered.

The remnant shook his head. "It is the same power I wielded against the demons of Rash’alon in defense of this realm, only the false god has an incomplete understanding of them. Otherwise, the apostle would have faded instantly."

I stood there for a long minute, numb. A dozen different responses fought for control of my mouth, but all that came out was a weak croak.

"But..."

"I’m sorry, child."

My throat tightened, and I wrapped my arms around myself. He couldn’t die.

But...couldn’t he? A small, nagging voice tugged at the back of my mind. If all Luke was to me was warmth, and someone to hug, then wouldn’t it be fine? I could always find someone else. Someone willing to stay.

My vision blurred as tears rolled down my cheeks. Was that all that I was? Someone who only acted to preserve her own comfort, so desperate for warmth that love meant nothing more?

I should wipe away the tears, or at least blink. Make them go away.

Like Luke.

A sob shook me. The tears streamed, uninterrupted. I looked through them, at Arantius, and whimpered, "How do I find her?"

He gazed at me for a long time, before a small smile flickered across his face. "I haven’t told you it’s impossible, yet. But it is. Navigating the space between fate and oblivion is beyond any mortal. I won’t be able to protect you from the Astral Beasts or call you back if you get lost."

His warnings dripped off like rain. I was already going to lose everything that mattered, anyway.

When he saw my will unwavering, he drifted toward the shard. "Come, then. I can’t do it myself, but I can show you the path they took. It will be up to you to follow them."

He took my hand and laid it on the shard, keeping his hand over mine. The light within twirled in stunning patterns, drawn toward me. Millions of tiny spells swirling together in prismatic colors, the magic of the entire realm humming against my palm.

"Feel the warmth, the power, and then delve deeper," Arantius murmured in my ear.

I followed his instruction, closing my eyes and pressing deeper. The world dissolved into the soft thrum of fate, etched into the light within the shard. It was the same feeling I’d felt when I’d joined my aura with Enusia, only the melody sang louder and clearer. Every note made sense. And amid that harmony was another, a whisper of a song once sung, and an echo of a presence I knew by heart.

"I feel it. I can feel her," I said.

"Then go, just as you would in a vision. Only this time, you go not in your soul form, but with your very soul. Perish within, and you will be lost. Alive, but forever lifeless."

So that was why he took the risk. Technically, my flesh would live on, and carry the divinity and Haven with it, but my soul would be gone forever. A hollow comfort.

His guidance proved true, and in seconds, Haven faded away. It was just like sinking into a vision, only that was just the first step. It went deeper, and darker, until the light of my soul space was consumed in it. All I had was the faint thread of the song, of Fate’s comforting presence, to draw me on through the shadows. Fragments of visions danced about me, showing places in the future, and moments past, but I kept my eyes straight. They didn’t belong to me, or Enusia. They didn’t belong to anyone.

Time blurred as I got deeper, and the visions got stranger. They formed a sort of path, weaving like ancient, gnarled trees in every direction. There were creatures I didn’t know, beings with language, magic, and technology foreign to both my old life and Enusia. Battles of absurd properties and realms that defied every natural and magical law I knew. Their songs were louder and more confusing, trying to draw my attention from my path to ensnare my mind and spirit.

But that didn’t feel right. They weren’t trying to do anything. They just were. It was my soul that was drawn to them. The shadows of my path, of the in between, were cold. Shivers constantly wracked my soul, and every step was a chore. The terror and cold that had taken me during Haven’s fall was but a shadow to its depths. Were it not for the golden light of the divinity, wreathing me in dim starlight, it might have consumed me entirely. And the visions, in comparison, the glimpses into realms unknown, looked so warm and welcoming, even the ones filled with blood and death. At least they were real.

I heard them first as I passed through the flickering lights of an infernal realm drenched in warfare between demons and gods. A faraway, haunting howl. There was nothing in my memories or instincts that matched it, other than primal fear. It carried the weight of the wolves of Heartland stalking me through the forest.

I reached for mana, but its warmth was pale and distant. The power I wielded in Enusia was almost without match, but it was a mere candle in the darkness beyond the weave of fate.