The Forsaken Hero

As the days passed, the last vestiges of fall vanished as the chill of winter marched across the mountains. It had been several weeks since the first snowfall, making three months since we’d arrived. The students had since learned of my hideaway, which somehow earned the nickname ”Fate’s Rest.” Often, when I arrived early in the monring, a few brave souls were cloistered away, eagerly awaiting my arrival. Although I never said anything, they would flee the instant I arrived, only occasionally offering a few nervous stammers apologizing or asking for an autograph.

Elise brought a sense of light and energy to my life each day, visiting after her classes and activities ended. Occasionally, she’d bring friends or classmates and introduce me, whom I always politely greeted. Outside of our daily training, I rarely saw Soltair and Trithe, who continuously fought monsters and hunted for the dragon, which was proving elusive.

On this particular day, I was deep in conversation with the master librarian, Slivera. She’d sought me out several times, engaging in lectures or discussion for several hours then disappearing completely. At first, I was extremely wary, but she didn’t once mention the church’s orders, and parted with small tidbits of advice or information I found extremely useful.

The ninth-level librarian sat across from me, in the middle of her current lecture. Her hands waved in animated gestures every other word, and her voice buzzed with excitement. High-level magic was a topic students guessed at, but were unqualified to learn, making this a rare opportunity to share her knowledge.

”Sixth-circle spells form an important threshold in spellcasting. Up until that point, the difference between circles is the complexity of the spell. But after that, it is power. There is little mechanical difference between a seventh and ninth-circle spell, save the overwhelming strength demonstrated by the spell. If supported by sufficient mana, any sixth-circle spell can be boosted up, increasing in magnitude, capability, and effect with each additional magic circle,” Silvera explained.

I nodded, absorbing every word. Her teachings had proven reliable in the past, aiding me in learning several fifth and sixth-circle spells to this point. Now, as I prepared myself to master a seventh circle, it was imperative I understood the magic correctly. When exploring with this much power, making a mistake, especially in ignorance, was often life-threatening.

As she took a breath, I raised my hand. At her nod, I asked, ”How big is the difference in power? I know a fourth-circle spell can handle several third-circles without issue, but how powerful is seventh?”

Slivera’s aged face crinkled in a smile. ”Ah, to be naive. When speaking of this level, it is no longer appropriate to compare different circles. When you ascended to reach sixth level, your mana underwent a qualitative transformation, dwarfing that which sustained you at fifth. Can you imagine losing to your previous self?”

I shook my head, unsure of where she was going. That was true for every other spell level too, right?

”The distance only grows from there. When you break through to seventh level, your growth will exponentially increase. The distance between seventh and eighth is larger still.”

”And ninth?”

She sighed, gazing through the violet curtains at the city below. ”They say ninth-level is the limits of what mortals can achieve. Through all my research and study, this is not because the gods limit us, or our souls simply can’t bear it. Our souls grow so powerful they shake off the grip of time, granting us something akin to immortality. Yet, even with the hundreds of years granted me, I have barely scratched the surface of what a ninth-level can achieve. No, tenth is not impossible, there’s simply isn’t enough time.”

”Is it really so great?” I muttered, slightly disheartened.

After breaking Elise’s curse, I had dared to dream I could achieve the strength to overthrow the Sun God’s curse. But what could I possibly achieve in the little time I left?

”Oh, chin up, child,” Slivera said, ”There’ll be time later to contemplate the eternities. For now, why don’t we focus on just seventh-level?”

”You’re right.” Adaptive Resistance seemed to be impacted by the strength of my soul. Ever since reaching the seventh level, my curse resistance had come to an abrupt halt, making almost no progress in the past few months. It was infuriating, being so close to freedom, yet unable to make the final step. And now, with Slivera’s presence, my time was slipping away.

”Mana Storm,” Slivera read off the tome I had chosen. ”A powerful spell, for certain, yet difficult to control.”

I sniffed, still a little bitter about our previous topic, and reached across the table to pull the spellbook before me. ”Control is one of the few things I’m confident in.”

”Even so, learning a seventh-circle spell is far from easy. Many mages study for years, and even then success isn’t guaranteed. And should you somehow succeed, you join a rank of mages known in every country and land considered a danger to national security,” Slivera said, calmly watching my face.

I shrugged, unphased. ”I think it’s too late for me to worry about that.”

She sighed, resting her chin on her hand. ”I suppose that’s true. After the stunt the Pope pulled during the Sun Festival, there isn’t a noble alive who doesn’t know of the Slave Hero. In that case, are you sure you wish to proceed?”

”As if I have a choice.”

”Then allow me to offer you a deal. Answer a few of my questions, and I’ll set aside time for the next month to tutor you. Whether you succeed or fail, it will be up to you after that. At the very least, I can guarantee you won’t accidentally kill or cripple yourself.”

I pursed my lips, scanning her face for any sign of malice or guile. She smiled and fluttered her eyes innocently, an expression that looked strange on an elderly woman. After giving my horns a thoughtful stroke, I sighed.

”Very well, but I make no promises as to if I’ll answer.”

”As a woman of many secrets, I believe I can relate. However, failure to answer will terminate our deal.”

”Ask your first question.”

”No need to be short,” she said, clicking her tongue. ”I scheduled the entire evening for this.”

So she’d been after this from the start. Perhaps from the first time we spoke, if her strange requests were considered.

”My first question is: What the hell does the church want from you? They’ve sent me four messages since you arrived begging me to take you to the Shard and get you identified, and it’s starting to get annoying.”

I froze, overwhelmed by the sudden burst of aura accompanied by her outburst. Frowning, she suppressed her soul and released me. My tail trembled in terror, yet I maintained my neutral expression. Had that been deliberate intimidation? If so, it had worked.

”Sorry about that,” she muttered. ”Those prickly bastards at the church can be so pretentious sometimes, thinking they own the world. If that idiot hadn’t asked himself, I’d have told them to go to hell.”

I narrowed my eyes, memorizing her reaction. It seemed not all ninth-level souls were as unified as the church led to believe. Perhaps that alone was the only reason I hadn’t been handed over yet.

”Didn’t they tell you about me?” I asked slowly.

She shook her head, eyes narrowed in irritation. ”As if I’d waste a question confirming something I know.”

I hesitated, tapping my fingers on the table. Revealing my ability would definitely raise my priority in her eyes, but... my eyes flicked to the seventh-circle tome. I needed to break through, and soon.

”They’re watching because of my ability. Ever since I arrived in this world, I’ve been hated and mistrusted for being a demonkin and Fate’s chosen hero. I was enslaved as an extra precaution, so they could control or torture me as they wished.”

”I assumed that much.” I folded my arms, her intense scrutiny sending a shiver down my spine. ”But what ability can one have they would care so much about it?”

”It’s called Adaptive Resistance. From what I’ve managed to piece together, it provides protection against magic based on my experiences.”

What kind of magic?”

”Al magic. At least, I think so. Whenever I or my magic is stuck by an effect, it absorbs some of it, growing stronger. The church is worried my resistance to Curse Magic will overpower the slave crest’s effects and free me from their control.”

”A valid concern,” she said idly, ”but pointless, nonetheless. Judging by the quality of your slave crest, your ability would have to be capable of nullifying peak seventh-circle curses. Hah, can you imagine that? An ability that strong would make the gods...”

She froze, eyes wide, her lips left parted in a dying chuckle. ”No, that’s not possible. I mean... you would be... Gods, I’m an idiot. Is that how you freed that Ornst girl?”

”I used the spell Link Ability to pass my resistances on to her. I didn’t realize she was cursed, but Adaptive Resistance broke it anyway,” I explained. There wasn’t really a point in hiding it anymore.

”Incredible,” Slivera breathed. ”No wonder they’re so keen to reclaim you. Breaking a Divine Curse is no trivial matter.”

”That wasn’t a Divine Curse,” I said darkly. ”Probably a Mortal Curse, at best.” Speaking of which, didn’t some of the other heroes have some of those? I resolved to ask Korra if she suffered anything the next time I met her. Perhaps I could break that now.

”I had no idea there were different kinds.” Slivera’s eyes twinkled. ”But I suppose a hero would know. I was planning to ask you about that girl as another of my questions, so I suppose I’ll skip to my final question. It’s also about the duel, coincidentally.”

I took a deep breath, bracing myself. There was only one thing this could be about.

”How did you manage to break apart that brat’s spells so easily? Targeting a mage’s spell with Dispel Magic is difficult in and of itself, but you managed to locate its weak points and disrupt them almost instantly.”

Okay, perhaps there were two. At least she hadn’t noticed my Soul Casting. But still, shouldn’t she know something this elementary? ”If you target the runes being woven, you can disrupt the mana and the entire spell unravels like a poorly knit scarf.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she leaned across the table. ”What do you mean by ’currently being woven?’”

Her intensity shocked me, and I grabbed the table for support afraid of another burst of aura. ”YOu know, the chants. They build the entire spell in sequence. Destroying the one the mana is entering causes a chain reaction that brings down the entire spell. I think I read it first in one of the books on Runes at the Divine Throne.”

”That shouldn’t be possible,” she muttered, then her eyes widened and she slammed a fist on the table. ”Wait, can you see mana?”

It had been months since I’d fought without the Eyes of Fate. I almost always had them active, searching for new magic to learn or potential dangers. Somehow, I’d forgotten few mages could see what I could and assumed it common knowledge. Trapped by my own hubris, I could only bow my head and admit it.

”Yes. I can see mana.”