The Forsaken Hero

The room stirred as Rasce’s loud warning shook everyone from their sleep. The two adventuring parties struggled to their feet, groaning with morning aches and rubbing exhaustion from their bleary eyes.

Sorrin yawned, standing and stretching, his hand falling to his sword. ”Whose coming?”

”The Guild Leader,” Rasce replied grimly.

”Good. I’ve got a few questions to ask him,” Sorrin muttered. ”He’s got a lot to account for.”

”Wait,” I called. I jumped to my feet, perhaps standing too quickly, as a rush of dizziness overtook me. Fable pressed against my side, stabilizing me, and I rubbed a horn, closing my eyes until the world stopped moving.

”Starlight?” Tana asked with concern.

”It’s nothing,” I muttered, steadying myself with a breath. ”Just be careful with Helron. His soul looked the same as theirs.”

They followed my gesture to the Dawn Blades, who were busy running their hands over their healed bodies, eyes full of wonder.

”He was cursed? How is that even possible?” Rasce asked, eyes narrowing. ”Even among this damned Circle, there’s no way there’s anyone stronger than him.”

I shook my head, feeling slightly timid now that everyone’s eyes were on me. ”Curses don’t regard level, not like magical techniques. Stronger souls have inherently more resistance to them, but even the curses on the Dawn Blades were only third level, otherwise...” I trailed off, taking an unsteady breath. It was better not to consider what might have happened if Adaptive Resistance hadn’t worked on them.

”What are you trying to say,” Sorrin asked slowly.

”Just that it might not be ’him’ acting against us.”

The leader of the Dawn Blades, Benri, nodded. ”That’s true. When we were under the curse, we could think and act normally. It was just that our values and priorities seemed skewed. There was nothing wrong with trying to kill you all, and we tried our best to do it as cleanly and effectively as possible. It wasn’t until that wolf knocked me out that my sense of control returned. Now, well, I can only say we’re sorry.”

He shrugged, looking down as a shadow crossed his face. The other two Dawn Blades similarly bowed their heads.

”If that’s the way it is, there’s nothing to feel bad about,” Sorrin replied, ”There’s no way we could blame you for something that wasn’t your fault. But do you remember anything about being cursed? Who did it? When did it happen?”

Benri sighed, sitting down and massaging his temples. ”It’s all so blurry. We were called in to meet with Master Helron, and the next thing I recall, we were heading to the warehouse. We waited for almost a day before you arrived, though we were told it was supposed to be much less. That Vithrass character showed up a few hours before you did, but he didn’t say much. Just a few condescending words about us being human, but considering he was a demonkin, that was hardly unexpected.” Benri paused, glancing at me, his eyes tracing over my horns. ”Not offense, Starlight. If it weren’t for you, we’d still be lost.”

”You’re kind for saying so,” I murmured, my tail twitching self-consciously. To be honest, I was so used to derogatory remarks his off-handed insult hadn’t even registered.

”So whoever it was must have gotten to Helron first,” Tana mused. ”Starlight, are you able to free him, too?”

I hesitated, reaching into my soul and finding it drained of mana. ”I’m...not sure. I could do it if it’s the same curse, but only in a few hours. I’m a little tired, and I don’t think I could cast the third-circle spell right now.”

”She already used her mana to heal everyone,” Dyson said, folding his arms. ”I’m not sure it’s fair to expect more right now.”

”Oh, I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized,” Tana said softly, looking away.

”There’s a chance we won’t have to do anything. Given the level of the curse, it might have dissolved already. I don’t think it could have held the Dawn Blades, and they’re quite a bit weaker than the Guild Leader,” I said hopefully.

Sorrin strode over, pushing between two yawning beastkin. ”I pray you’re right, but we also can’t take that for granted. If it comes down to it, we might have to fight our way out. I’d prefer not to damage the inn at all, so let’s meet him in the street. If it turns out we’re outmatched, I’ll hold him off while the rest of you flee. We’ll meet outside of the West Gate, where we entered.”

”We’re coming too,” Benri said, rolling his arm over his head. He winced as his shoulder popped loudly, giving it a few more stretches before belting on his sword belt.

”I’m sorry,” I whispered. ”I tried my best to heal it, but–”

”Nonsense. You’ve already accomplished more than any other healer in our guild can do,” he replied. ”And that itself is more than we deserve. Even if you could do more, I’m not sure I want you to. You got most of the major damage, and once the rest heals naturally, it’ll leave me a nice scar. A reminder of sorts, if you will.”

I gazed at him, uncertainty flickering in my eyes, but there was no guile in his voice or expression. His two companions nodded in agreement, and I turned away, forcing away my feelings of guilt. One of them would likely always carry a slight limp, and while the other was fine, Benri wasn’t quite as well off as he made himself to be. I had managed to heal the nerve and bone damage, but he would find it difficult to use his arm for long periods of time.

The talking died away as the adventurers prepared themselves for the upcoming confrontation. I hadn’t much to prepare, just summoned my staff and leaned against Fable, idly stroking his ears. The horns sprouting from his head bore an uncanny resemblance to my own, and, curious, I danced my fingers up their length, admiring the smooth ridges. Fable whined softly, turning to look at me reproachfully.

I let my hand fall off, returning to petting his head. ”Sorry. That must have been strange for you.” If they were anything like my own sensitive horns, then having someone else touch them was probably extremely uncomfortable.

He stared at me a moment longer before his head whipped around, his ears pricking up. A sense of alarm flared through our bond, and I stood, hand tightening on my staff.

”They’re here,” I announced, struggling to raise my voice above the din.

Sorrin’s ears twitched, and he glanced at me, his eyes taking in my stance and Fable’s alertness in one swoop. He leaked a portion of his aura, silencing the room, and placed a finger to his lips.

”Tana and I will meet them. Dyson, you and Rasce sneak out the back entrance. If things turn ugly, snipe any mages. Dawnblades, hang back with the beastkin for now. Reinforce us if you hear fighting, but be alert. This might just be a ploy to separate us. Starlight, you’re with me.”

”In the front?” I gasped, a slight tremor traveling through my tail.

”We’re going to have to rely on your eyes for now. Also, if you’re close, I’ll be better able to protect you.”

I nodded, comforted by the earnest note in his voice. Fable rubbed against my side, and I pressed a hand to my breast, squeezing it tight into a fist. Dyson was right. I wasn’t alone any longer.

Dyson and Rasce slipped out the low, smoke-tinted window, vanishing into the morning dusk. Sorrin glanced at us, and Tana gave him a nod, hand resting reassuringly on his shoulder. He took a deep breath and pushed through the door, marching out into the empty common room of the Glossy Sparrow. His stride was firm and confident, lacking any sign of the unease that must be clawing at his heart.

Tana gave me a comforting nod and we set out together. The innkeeper was nowhere to be seen, the counter locked, the shudders pulled tight. The front door opened with an uncharacteristic shriek, sending a sharp twist of uncertainty through my tail.

Outside, the street was abandoned as the inn. The sun had yet to rise above the walls of the city, but soft, gray light radiated out of the eastern sky. There was a soft but rising bustle beyond the silence, signs that the city was slowly shaking off its slumber. The creak of wagons, shouts of morning merchants, and the snap of pendants, flapping in the breeze.

My eyes narrowed as over a dozen shapes stole through the dimly lit street, slipping from alley to alley. Their souls burned with varying intensities, ranging from first to fifth level. The fifth-level man wore a dusty gray overcoat and sturdy brown boots, a rapier strapped to his hip. He moved with the confidence of a Lord, yet as he neared, his step slowed, and his hand fell to his sword. It seemed the Guild Leader had arrived.

”Come no closer,” Sorrin called, his ears pricked and alert. His arms were crossed, but remained loose, his hand never straying far from his sword.

Helron slowed, raising a hand in halt. His followers came to a stop, shifting uneasily, murmuring to each other in voices too soft for me to make out. After scrutinizing us for a few, tense seconds, Helron sagged, his hand falling off his sword hilt.

”To think you’re alive,” he said, face painted with relief.

He tried to take a step toward us, but Sorrin drew his sword, leveling it at the man’s chest. As the wolfkin glanced at me, I gave a slight nod. He sighed and sheathed his sword, though his eyes remained hard and uncompromising.

Sorrin took a step forward, glaring at the guild leader. ”I believe you have some explaining to do.”