The Forsaken Hero

Tana tossed her hair over her shoulder, a smile on her lips. ”The correct way? And what would you know about that?”

I ignored her skepticism and held out my hand. My staff appeared in a flash of stars, and she sat up, suddenly realizing I was serious.

”Starlight, what are you...?”

Without bothering to respond, I seized my mana and began to cast. Over the past few days, my mana had increased enough to cast roughly four first-circle spells-still far from enough for an array. But with the staff’s help, it should be enough.

The array I cast was the first of its kind, something I’d been working on before I was sold to Lord Byron. The large-scale battles in the Gate had been an unwelcome wake-up call to the nature of war, and the limited influence I could exert on an entire battlefield. So many soldiers had died before I could save them, something that haunted me the day.

”Life Mist,” I whispered.

Two first-circle spells appeared in the air, both paused a moment before completion. Using my remaining mana, I bound them together, tightly interlocking the runes until they became one single spell. Although it technically had two magic circles, the multiplicative nature of the array possessed the power of a weak third-circle spell.

Tana’s eyes widened as the circles fully merged. Wisps of mist curled from the center of the spell, billowing out until they filled the hollow. The fog was cool and soothing, washing away the aches of the night and calming the constant ache of the Sunpurge. I closed my eyes, lost in the gentle, healing touch of the magic. The array combined Life Dew and Mist, using the conjured mist as a medium to disperse the Life Magic to a larger area. The concentration was low, meaning the array could do little more than heal scratches and bruises, but it was more a proof of concept than anything.

”Amazing,” Tana whispered.

She trailed her hand through the air, leaving small eddies in the mist. Sorrin and Dyson broke apart, looking about at the magic in wonder. Their shoulders straightened and heavy breathing slowed, obvious signs the invigorating power of the Life Mist remained potent even a dozen feet from the origin.

”How did you...?” She hesitated, bashfully twisting a strand of hair around her finger. ”I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. How did you do that?”

”I’ll teach you,” I responded softly, ”But it’s not easy. Like you said, messing it up is far more dangerous than a normal spell.” I gestured to the fire, where the burning scroll still flickered. ”The problem they had was the foundation. You can’t just cast two spells and brute force them together. Runes have compatibility with each other, and even if you get some to align, the orientation and attributes have to be just right. Life Dew and Mist work because they share a lot of commonalities, and the simple magic circles make it ideal for practice.”

She nodded, carefully memorizing my words. After a few minutes, she grasped her pendant and began to cast, carefully following my instructions. Trying to walk someone through casting chantless was exceptionally difficult, especially when I lacked the Eyes of Fate. With that ability, I could have easily pointed out her mistakes and truly walked her through the process. Had she not been familiar with both spells, trying to merge them into an array would be all but impossible.

After dozens of attempts, Tana finally succeeded in casting the array. The resulting cloud was significantly smaller than the one I first cast, but that was to be expected. Arrays depended far more on skill and experience than chants did. When using chants, anyone with an idea of how to use mana could say the words and get an identical spell like a cookie cutter cut-out, but when it came to arrays, each rune had to be painstakingly crafted, aligned, and woven into the circles.

”I...I did it!” she cried, staring at the billowing clouds of white in disbelief. ”And there isn’t even a chant for it?”

I shook my head. ”Congratulations on your first chantless spell. It’s difficult, but it isn’t supposed to be impossible. With enough practice and experience, any mage can do it.”

”Having a wonderful teacher helps a lot too,” she said, reaching down to touch my hand. ”Thank you, Starlight. I mean it. I’ve been stuck at third level for so long, and was worried I’d never be able to progress.”

I blushed, looking away. Her touch felt unusually warm, soaking through my skin and suffusing my chest with a pleasant feeling.

Sorrin strode over. ”That’s enough practice. The last thing I want is our mages exhausting themselves before we even catch sight of those green bastards.”

The Wolfkin offered Tana a hand, which she daintily took. I summoned my staff and made to stand, but froze as he reached toward me. His hand was rough and calloused, covered in countless fine, white scars. After hesitating for a moment, I accepted the hand up. He lifted me to my feet as easily as he might a child.

”T-thanks,” I stammered, quickly pulling away.

Rasce slipped out of the bushes, and the rest of the party gathered together. It took me a second to realize he’d been gone all morning. I’d been so absorbed in spending time with Tana I’d noticed little else.

”The camp’s not far,” the ranger began, restringing his bow, ”And it’s a bit one, too. Given the size of the cave and the traffic going in and out, I’d estimate over a hundred of them. At least one of them can use magic, probably more. This is going to be a tough one.”

I looked around as the rest of the Glory Chasers nodded grimly. Even Sorrin accepted the news as dire, his knuckles whitening on the hilt of his sword. I wrestled with myself for a moment, certain they were exaggerating the threat, before my curiosity got the better of my shyness and I asked, ”Forgive me for asking, but aren’t they just goblins?”

Rasce rolled his eyes and snorted. ”Just goblins? Even if we’re stronger than a few, a hundred goblins is no laughing matter. Even the strongest warriors can be taken out by foes far weaker than them, and we’re hardly prepared to make that boast.”

I shrunk back at the derision in his voice. ”Sorry,” I squeaked, ducking my head in shame, my tail writhing.

Tana laid a hand on Rasce, drawing him back. After giving him a sharp look, she softened her expression and said, ”There’s no need to apologize, Starlight. Even experienced adventurers underestimate goblins, not truly understanding the threat they pose. Goblins are cunning and fierce, using every trap and trick available to them. Many a careless soul has wandered into their traps and fallen before their blades.”

”I-I understand,” I whispered. I clenched my skirt in my hands, trying to get the trembling to stop. The pure derision in Rasce’s voice was eerily similar to an inquisitor’s. They had spoken to me like that many times in their torture chambers, doing everything in their power to ensure I knew how weak, powerless, and ignorant I was.

Tana gazed at me, her eyes deep with concern, and bit her lip. Dyson coughed gently and folded his arms, glaring at Rasce.

”Anything else you care to tell us?” the thief asked.

”Just that the cave they live in isn’t goblin-made. It’s not natural either, but it seems to extend deep beyond the surface. My magic only lasted long enough for me to sneak a few hundred feet in, just long enough to determine the place is a veritable maze. It’s trapped, too, although they are rather shoddy compared to that old tomb we raided a few months back. A few pits and spikes, but that’s about it.”

”Good work, Rasce,” Sorrin said, patting him on the shoulder. The ranger scowled at him, but didn’t shake him off.

Dyson looked up at the sky, shielding his eyes against the glory of the sun. ”We’d better get going. It’s almost noon, and if we’re quick, the sun will be on our side.”

I finally looked up, my brow creased in confusion. But just as I was about to ask what he meant, I caught sight of Rasce. He wasn’t looking at me specifically, but his eyes seemed to bore into my soul, daring me to open my mouth. Before anyone could notice my movement, I quickly looked back down, conscious of my tail drooping behind me.

With little more discussion, the party broke camp and prepared to march. Sorrin donned his heavy armor and oiled his blade. Dyson began pulling knives from his spatial sack and hiding them about his body. I watched, spellbound, as he stashed blade after blade, continuing until his entire body bristled with hidden weapons. Was it even possible to use that many knives in a fight?

As the party’s preparations wound down, a faint memory stirred in the back of my mind. I raised my hand and stared at my ring, almost nervous to explore the idea. But curiosity more than anything drove me forward, and I withdrew a long-forgotten cloak. It was light and soft, made of silk so sheer you could almost see through it. The fabric was a crimson red matching the hue of my hair, with a beautifully embroidered rune on the back. The rune was rather anomalous, and it was only thanks to my extensive studies I recognized it as symbolizing a tight hug or embrace, with respect to comfort and security.

Moving gingerly, I laid it over my shoulders, cringing as it whispered over the Sunpurge. Remarkably, I felt nothing, not even a slight sting or burn. But despite its weightlessness, this garment was not to underestimated. I’d received it as a gift from Lord Griffon after healing his people, but hadn’t the courage to wear it then. The fabric was enchanted with powerful wards and protections, able to provide resistance against spells and magical techniques up to the fifth level. Even mundane attacks were powerless before it, making it the perfect fit for someone as vulnerable as me.

”It’s beautiful!” Tana gushed, reaching out to brush the fabric with her fingers. ”Where did you get it.”

I looked down, my tail curling around my ankles, and she moved her hand up to rest on my shoulder. ”It’s alright if you don’t want to say. Whatever’s hiding in your past seems painful, but we’re here for you. Even Rasce, though he might not seem like it. The Glory Chasers stick together no matter what, and you’re a part of that. We trust you, and you can trust us.”

I watched her depart, joining Sorrin at the front of the party, and we left the hollow behind. I wanted to believe her, I truly did. But, eventually, they would leave me too. Like Fyren, Elise, and Fate. To trust them would be to expose myself to more pain, and I couldn’t bear the thought of losing what little light I’d regained.

But at the same time, what about the joy in my heart? Or the warmth I felt when I shared my magic? And what about the love I felt wrapped up in someone’s arms? Be it Fate, Elise, or even Sari, just thinking of being near them soothed some of the pain in my heart. If I were alone, wouldn’t I lose that too?

Either way, there would be a price, a reckoning of sorts. The risk and pain of betrayal, or the cold darkness of solitude. And I was caught in the middle, torn between them both, too afraid to step in any direction.