The Forsaken Hero

The arena stretched before us, a grand stage where the fate and honor of mages clashed. Its resemblance to the Divine Throne was striking, but there were subtle differences that set it apart. Unlike the Divine Throne, where exhibitions took precedence and seats stretched infinitely, this arena at Western University was a battleground used every day. Thousands of seats still encircled the arena, but the observation room had been sacrificed for a broader battlefield. Illusory screens projected matches before the seats, with significant battles like ours broadcast throughout the campus.

”Getting cold feet?” Fyren’s voice cut through my nerves, his teasing tone attempting to dispel my unease.

I absently curled a strand of hair around my finger, a nervous habit second only to stroking my horns. ”It’s just... I didn’t expect so many people.”

”If that’s all, then I guess we have nothing to worry about. It’s not like you’re expected to give a speech or anything,” he chuckled.

I blushed, recalling the incident at Viriden. No matter how many times I faced an audience, the anxiety never lessened.

”It’s not like last time,” I whispered to myself, summoning my courage. This time, I had nothing to lose. Ronin was far away on his own adventures, and the church didn’t have a chance to meddle with my affairs. It was a matter of pride, something I had never been allowed to embrace before anyway.

The door burst open, and Elise entered, smiling cheerfully. Several students from House Titan followed her, their confident laughter masking the underlying unease in their movements.

”This is Xiviyah, and her companion, Fyren,” Elise introduced us, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm.

A youth, several years older than Elise, bowed politely. ”It’s a pleasure to meet you, hero. I’m Jarrod, Crown Prince of the Brithlite Kingdom on the northern continent. While enrolled here, I’ve been asked to serve as one of the Three Fists of House Titan.” He gestured to the others behind him. ”These are the upper-echelon students from our house who have come to support you.”

Of hearing at his station, I half rose to give a curtsey, but then froze, flustered as looked at me in confusion. Was this kind of thing proper at Western University? I hadn’t considered showing respect to Eric, but... Feeling trapped, I looked at Fyren for help. He smiled, and my heart dropped. He wouldn’t abandon me again, would he?

”She’s rather shy,” Elise said, coming to my rescue. ”It took almost an hour for me to get a straight sentence from her.”

That wasn’t fair. I tried to say something many times, but the golden-haired girl always interrupted me.

Jarrod smiled kindly, his dimple faint but charming. ”No need to apologize. We understand this is all new to you. Feel free to speak your mind. We don’t care much for decorum or class, especially for you, who defended our Golden Princess.”

”I told you not to call me that,” Elise protested, puffing out her cheeks.

”It was the right thing to do,” I said, shooting Fyren a glare. It wasn’t like I had much of a choice anyway.

”I’m sorry we can’t offer more assistance,” Jarrod apologized. ”Times have been rough for us, and our resources are tied up in other endeavors.”

”I already told them that,” Elise said, still pouting from his earlier remark. ”But we should get going. They’re going to start it soon.”

”Of course. We wish you the best.”

No sooner had Jarrod closed his mouth than the door joining us to the arena vanished.

”Finally,” Fyren grunted, stalking through the doorway without another glance back.

I hurriedly stood, but had only just risen when Elise grabbed my hand. ”Come one! Let’s go.”

”You’re not nervous at all, are you?” I muttered, allowing myself to be pulled along.

She glanced at me, a smile playing on her lips. ”Not with you here. Even if Prince Eric is one of the Four Dragon Generals, how could he compete with a hero?”

The stadium floor was made of flat, colorless hexagons laced with enchantment magic. I studied them for several seconds but was unable to glean anything, and turned my attention to the stands. I recognized Soltair and Trithe sitting with the City Lord, but the rest was a sea of unfamiliar faces. The stadium seats were segmented into four groups, one for each house. Our appearance garnered a polite smattering of applause, almost all from the Titan section.

Across from us, Prince Eric and two others appeared, marching and waving proudly. Cheers erupted from all sides engulfing the arena in a deafening cacophony of excitement. The young girls screamed, their adoration for the prince evident. It was a reaction I was familiar with, having traveled with Soltair, but it still irritated me.

”He’s quite the star,” Fyren observed. ”Let’s hope they’re not too upset when he loses.”

”They won’t take it out on you,” Elise said softly, a shadow crossing her face.

Fyren glanced back at her and sighed. I placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, hoping she found comfort in my touch. ”Don’t worry about a thing. We’ll be here for a little while, at least until we find that dragon. If anyone bothers you, I’ll be there for you.”

”Thanks,” she said, her eyes still clouded with uncertainty.

A loud thrum filled the arena, and everyone fell silent. The City Lord’s face appeared on the illusory screens, and his voice rumbled in the air. At first, he gave a few reminders of events and deadlines coming up for the students, which I listened to with great interest. Even just the names of activities filled me with a sense of curiosity and wonder. Was a University dance that much different than the parties I’d experienced at the Divine Throne? What did the annual spell competition look like? What kind of artworks were featured in the gallery competition?

”Xiviyah,” Fyren’s voice brought me back to the moment, and I glanced up to see him gesturing behind me.

I looked back and yelped, finding my tail waving again. ”Stop that!” I whispered furiously, grabbing the offending appendage.

Elise giggled, the lighthearted moment briefly dispelling her anxiety, and I relaxed, allowing my attention to return to the City Lord as he revealed the details of the duel.

”Instead of the usual ranking duels, we have a match between the Fate hero and one of our own students. Though informal, this death match requires your attention. It will showcase the spells and techniques of the most powerful mages of your generation.

”On the Dragon side, we have three of the Dragon Generals: the Eternal Flame Prince Eric, Stormlord Kaya, and Spellblade Sorre. On the other side: the Fate Hero Xiviyah, Titan’s Golden Princess Elise, and the adventurer Fyren. Both teams will compete until only one side remains, declared the winner. All spells, items, and techniques are permitted.”

”Three?” Elise’s eyes widened. ”Are they this serious?”

”What’s wrong?” I asked, noticing her confidence waning.

”Three generals at once... They didn’t even field a team this strong to seize the championship last year! C-can we still win?” she stammered, growing paler with every word.

I looked across the gray field of hexagons to observe our opponents. Prince Eric carried a blazing staff and wore ornate, golden robes. Kaya and Sorre were both beautiful women in their early twenties. Kaya Carried a spear that crackled with electricity, sending arcs throughout the air around her. Sorre was dressed in light leather armor every bit as revealing as that Trithe wore, and carried a long sword. As they took the field, their beauty attracted the eyes of all the male students. Cries of ”the goddesses!” and ”I love you!” filled the air until Lord Fithsban’s voice called for silence.

”Now, a moment while we adjust the battlefield,” he announced

I watched curiously as the hexagons burned with magic, weaving complex runes over the ground. I stepped aside as a few materialized beneath my feet and memorized the patterns, intent on studying them later.

Within seconds, the magic completed, and trees and rocks began to rise out of the ground, turning the arena into a forest. The towering boulders cut a sharp contrast against the softly wooded hills, providing plenty of cover while not obscuring too much sight. I analyzed it all with the Eyes of Fate, and was shocked to find it was all real. What kind of magic was this?

A shower of bright sparks appeared in the air high above us, accompanied by the City Lord’s voice. ”You may begin.”