The Forsaken Hero

”Come along, Filthblood.”

I followed Father Ithris as we headed to the training grounds. He was the same Father who I was first healed by in the warehouse, but the past month hadn’t softened his attitude at all. In the day or so he’d been following me around, life had been nothing but miserable. He complained constantly, shortened the time I spent at various activities, and kept my contact with Soltair at a minimum.

Following yesterday’s judgment, I was assigned a location in the lower levels of the Divine Throne, in the slave quarters. Unlike the warehouse, the slaves here were generally treated fairly and were kept in rooms instead of cages. There was a set curfew when all the rooms would magically lock, but we were relatively free to go about our assignments. Of course, I heard that if you weren’t in your room by curfew, it would activate your Slave Crest periodically to ”encourage” you to return. Beyond that, food and water were delivered daily, and clothes were provided. They were unbearably simple, especially compared to the dresses I’d gotten used to wearing, but I couldn’t complain.

The slaves performed most of the manual tasks around the Divine Throne. I hadn’t thought much of them before, but even the maids who cared for Soltair were slaves. They did the cooking, cleaning, and general maintenance of the grounds, and were occasionally called in for special favors among the upper echelon. I couldn’t gather much about that, but even hearing the rumors sent shivers down my spine. The fact that only young, female slaves were ever requested said more than enough.

Every slave was bound by similar commands, much like the ones Soltair was forced to give at the bestowal of the Slave Crest. A few other restrictions were in place, but that mostly had to do with the day-to-day chores. Suspiciously, no commands restricted violence or assault amongst slaves, but I figured there wasn’t much to worry about. Rumors spread quickly among the slaves, and most kept far away from me. Being known as a dangerous hero had its perks, after all. The most bothersome command was an order to obey any priest, no matter their rank or role in the Divine Throne. It wasn’t hard to see how that might be exploited.

”Filthblood, I do not have the time to waste while you ponder whatever is going through your horned head.” Father Ithris said, interrupting my thoughts.

”Yes, Father,” I said respectfully. I learned quickly that any disrespect meant shorter sessions at the Library.

We arrived at the training grounds to find things already in progress. Selena moved amongst the mages, giving guidance and rebuking those who endangered themselves and others with their magic. Her face brightened when she saw us, and she quickly hurried over. I caught a hint of concern in her eyes as she caught sight of the Father, but the elf was all smiles.

”Welcome back! It’s been a few days, Xiviyah. I heard some rather... unfortunate things happened.” She said, then suddenly paused as if she remembered something and curtseyed, ”Father. Forgive my negligence”

”Bah, just get started already.” Father Ithris said, irritable settling back to watch the mages practice.

The blonde-haired elf grabbed my hand and pulled me away from him. Once we were far enough away, her voice hushed. ”Is everything okay? I heard rumors about what those priests did to you.”

”I’m fine,” I said, ”the last few wounds are healing right up. Helps when the Sun Hero’s my roommate. Well... was my roommate.”

”That’s a relief. Now, what kind of magic are you going to work on today? I don’t know much about Fate magic, but what I do is yours.” She smiled kindly, displaying none of the prickly behavior of when we first met.

”Actually, I just want to practice one of my Hero abilities today. It triggered for the first time, and I want to see what it can do.”

”A hero ability? Which one?”

I shook my head at her curiosity. ”I’d rather not say. You know how it is...”

She let out a disappointed sigh and nodded. ”I guess so. Do you need anything for that?”

Waving her away, I settled down on the grass and crossed my legs. For the past few days, I’d been reviewing the battle over and over again, trying to find the trigger for when the golden glow filled my vision. After a few minutes, I was unsuccessful in recreating the effect and stood to stretch.

”What mischief are you working on now? I thought this was for magic training,” Father Ithris said, coming over to stand by me. He wasn’t quite scowling but felt like a storm on the horizon.

”Just practicing a bit. My mana’s been a little finicky since, you know...”

”Hmph.”

I watched in relief as he backed away again. At Soltair’s suggestion, I refused from revealing anything more about myself to the upper clergy, or anyone for that matter. The Father didn’t push the issue, but I knew he’d be watching closely. He was always keeping tabs on the spells I worked on or any unusual behavior. They wanted a good understanding of me in case anything drastic was deemed necessary.

Sightly irritated by his proximity, I grabbed at my mana. Stuffing it into my eyes like cotton, I gasped as a shock ran through me. Immediately, my eyes felt hot, and everything became shrouded in a golden glow. Before I even looked around, I squeezed my eyes shut, massaging my temples.

Countless magic circles filled the air, casting an overwhelming light that nearly blinded me. Even with my eyes tightly closed, I could feel their power emanating through the air.

After taking a few minutes to adjust, I slowly opened my eyes. After that, I couldn’t open my eyes wide enough. The dancing bits of magic were breathtakingly beautiful, filling the air with complex swirling colors and sparkles.

”Incredible,” I whispered, drinking it in hungrily.

There was so much more visible than when a spell was first cast. I could see individual streams of mana entering runes and ordering them around. Most impressive were the magic circles of spells that were already cast. According to everything I’d heard, magic circles disappear when their role is finished, unless they were actively used to direct a spell.

Through the golden glow, I could see the magic circles of spells cast minutes ago. The air was a jumble of magical residue mixed with active spells, making it impossible to decipher any individual spell. Even if I could, there was no way to know what they all did, not without sufficient knowledge of runes, mana, and magic circles.

I raised my hand and began to chant a spell. ”Waterball!” It was a simple first-circle spell that did exactly what it sounded like - create a ball of water.

Mana flowed from my chest, directed by the chant to construct runes and a small magic circle. My understanding of the spell grew rapidly, and the process of using mana became firm in my mind.

Water gathered in my palm, forming from droplets created by magic. After staring at it for a second, I realized there were a few errors in the magic circle. I dropped it and began casting anew, recreating the spell but trying to fix those errors. Again and again, I attempted to perfect the spell, but nothing worked. My replication of the chant was perfect, and the runes went exactly as the book instructed, but the mana just didn’t feel right.

After almost an hour of attempts, I took a deep breath and canceled the latest water ball. The mana consumption was just too high for a first-circle spell. The only explanation was that the chant was flawed.

I looked around nervously, but found no one watching. Even Father Ithris had dozed off, undoubtedly tired after all the work someone of his station was required to do. It was time to try something a little risky.