The Forsaken Hero

I plummeted into the darkness, the wind rushed in my ears, feeling numb and cold inside. Countless thoughts flitted through my mind, scattering like frozen leaves. The darkness below beckoned to me, sucking me in, but some small part of me, a survival instinct, perhaps, forced my heavy body into motion. Somehow, through more luck than anything, my staff snagged a hidden crevasse, pulling me to a stop. The sickening lurch almost tore my arm off, pain shooting through the numbness, but I held on for all I was worth.

Taking a shaky breath, I risked a glance down, finding my feet dangling above what seemed an endless abyss. A wave of dizziness washed through me, black spots dancing before my eyes, my stomach twisting violently. My grip nearly broke then and there, but I struggled to take deep breaths, and the vertigo lessened.

Tearing my gaze from the awful drop, I looked up at the twenty or so feet of sheer cliff that separated me from the rim of the chasm. Was that it? It had felt like I was falling forever, lost already in the darkness, but even if it was only twenty feet, it might as well have been a hundred. I was sore and exhausted, without the scantist bit of mana to support me. Fable was in a similar state, meaning I was trapped here by myself, for however long I could hang on.

My grip slipped, the glassy haft of my staff feeling especially slick beneath my trembling fingers. A moment later, aftershocks rolled through the chasm, nearly shaking me free of the wall, but I persisted, squeezing my eyes shut as large boulders plummeted into the darkness from above. It wouldn’t be long before the entire complex collapsed, burying this place of evil with the weight of an entire city.

That...wouldn’t be so bad. The Glory Chasers had enough time to escape. They would save Ror, and make it to the surface. I took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling a stab of loneliness. They were probably already gone, letting this chasm get their revenge for them. Rasce’s words still echoed in my ear, his accusations sharp against my heart. I had already known all that, but hearing the things I feared most come from one of the people who had once loved me hurt me in a way I hadn’t experienced since Soltair sold me to Lord Byron. Even now, they were probably glad I was–

”Starlight!”

I froze, my grip nearly breaking as Sorrin’s voice fell into my ears. My eyes slowly opened, revealing a silhouette crouching over the chasm’s edge. Sorrin?

The ground continued to tremble, but he held himself steady, driving his sword into the ground to give him something to hang on to. My tail twitched, and I flinched as a large piece of rubble broke free of the ceiling, tumbling toward his head, but my lips were stiff, unable to make a sound.

Suddenly, a glowing barrier appeared above him, deflecting the rock. Tana’s fearful face appeared beside his, her hand grasping her amulet tightly. She relaxed slightly upon seeing me, but I flinched away from her gaze, staring down into the darkness below. How could I face her after what I had done?

”Starlight! Are you alright?” she asked, her voice tight and worried.

A violent shiver crawled through my body, and my grip cracked a little more. Would it really be so bad to fall into the darkness? The darkness promised silence, a blessed stillness compared to this agonizing struggle. I almost welcomed it. One final slip, and then perhaps, at last...peace. No more slavers or inquisitors, no more betrayal or hurt.

”Hold on, I’m coming,” Sorrin called, his voice cutting through my thoughts.

Using his sword like an ice pick, he began to descend the sheer face of the crevasse, pausing only when tremors threatened to shake him loose. When he was just above me, an awful keening erupted from the earth, the entire cavern shifting violently. The ceiling buckled, and the walls of the chasm groaned inward, the weight of the city above beginning to force them close.

”Starlight, take my hand!” he cried, reaching out toward me.

Sorrin’s outstretched hand blurred, and his voice faded into a muffled echo. Every agonizing betrayal swirled in my mind: Soltair, Fyren, the Glory Chasers, and the Inquisitor’s looming shadow. Exhaustion was a crushing weight, the darkness below a whisper of sweet surrender. A traitorous part of me yearned for the wolfkin’s touch, for a shred of the promise they had made me, but how could I? After everything I had done, I didn’t deserve their trust, their love, whatever it was they offered me. One slip, and all of it–pain, guilt, everything–would cease.

Sorrin’s eyes narrowed as he saw my hesitation, a fierce frown overtaking his features. ”Damn it all, Starlight, just take my hand!” his voice softened, taking on an edge of fear and vulnerability. ”Please, I need you to trust me.”

The desperate hope in his eyes mirrored my broken yearning. Trust. After everything...he still wanted me to trust him? Why? Couldn’t he see I only brought destruction? Every promise I made turned to ash, every friend dead or gone...just like Aurle. A sob welled up in my throat, tears blurring my vision.

Trust. Just moments before, I would have given everything for one more chance to trust them, to make it right. The darkness beckoned to me, so close and comforting, while the hand above would bring nothing but pain and sorrow. If I truly wanted peace, wasn’t the choice clear?

And yet I hesitated, torn on the edge, unable to tear my gaze away from the salvation offered by the very ones I had betrayed. Was it really peace I desired? Would that fill the emptiness inside me?

”I’m sorry,” I whispered, though I didn’t know who I was apologizing to.

Sorrin’s eyes widened, voice rising in a soundless cry, and he stretched out his hand, straining toward me. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes, ignoring the storm of emotion tearing away within my heart, and reached up, feeling his strong, unrelenting grip close around my slender fingers. He gave a firm, desperate squeeze, and then I was rising.

I didn’t want peace. I wanted to keep a promise I had made an eternity ago, to do the impossible. To love and trust, and to be loved and be trusted. To smile.

Before I knew it, I was over the edge, falling to my knees. A sob caught in my throat, but I held it back, staring back into the rapidly closing void, where my staff remained wedged against the cliff face. It would return to me with a thought, yet for a moment, I was mesmerized by the glittering crystal, shining in the darkness below.

And then it was gone, and I was torn away from the ledge.

”Come on!” Tana cried, pulling at my arm. ”The whole place is coming down. We’ve got to go!”

Dyson and Rasce fled before us, the thief holding Ror protectively in his arms. Fable struggled to his feet, looking as worn as I felt, but kept pace fairly easily. Tired for a fourth-level body was nothing compared to the exhaustion one felt at first, something I was all too aware of. We hadn’t even made it past the tenth slave pen before a sudden aftershock knocked me from my feet.

Sorrin appeared beside me, bashing a falling rock away with his arm. Before I could even thank him, I was in his arms, and we were sprinting back up the spiraling network of tunnels, passing rooms that had taken me forever to search in seconds. I noticed for what felt like the first time the bloodied corpses underfoot, many already stiff, the blood dry.

Just how many had we killed? The entire venture felt like a blurry dream, the memory eclipsed by the torrent of despair and hope I experienced in the lower chambers. There were dozens of them—hundreds, perhaps, all slain with tooth and claw. Occasionally, small groups of corpses lay, bruised and battered, torn apart by aggressive winds.

Had I done that? I had no memory of killing so many personally, but the magical residues were clear. The truth was simple, irrefutable, yet it no longer bothered me like it did before. Vithrass was right; I felt so certain my life was worthless, thus, someone like me taking theirs was inexcusable, blasphemous even.

Yet I couldn’t deny the arms that held me tight, or the worried glances the others shared with me as we escaped the tunnels. Fable’s soul pulsed just feet away, reassuring me of his presence and loyalty. If they felt I was worth saving, for whatever reason, maybe...maybe I was.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as we burst free of the oppressive darkness, bathing in the welcoming light of the sun. Sorrin frowned, adjusting his grip as my shoulders shook with gentle sobs.

”Are you alright?” he asked, hugging me close, peering at me with concern.

I shook my head, allowing the tears to flow freely. I wasn’t alright. Everything–from my aching muscles to my exhausted soul–cried for relief. But even more than that, my mind was a mess of confusion, my heart in tatters. In the storm of emotion and questions, there was only one thing I knew for certain.

Everything had changed the moment I took his hand. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, there had always been the choice I made that sent me to this world, to surrender to the darkness. But now, there was only one path forward, and no matter what pain I suffered or betrayals I bore, I was going to walk it.

Taking a long, shuddering breath, I turned to look at the Glory Chasers, who had surrounded me in a circle of worried faces. ”I’m...sorry, but there’s something I have to tell you,” I whispered.

”Oh, that you’re the hero? We already know–” Dyson began, but went silent at a glare from Tana.

”Go ahead,” she murmured, squeezing my hand.

I nodded, my tail twisting anxiously. Even though I knew they already knew, the words caught in my throat. Taking another deep breath, I forced them out. ”I...I’m sorry for lying to you. My name’s not Starlight, it’s Xiviyah. The Hero of Fate.”