The Forsaken Hero

I stood in the center of the meadow, staff held tightly in one clammy hand, Fable by my side. The inquisitors were mere seconds from breaking through the trees, though their pace felt suspiciously slow, an unhurried walk at best. My chest felt heavy with trepidation, my tail drawing long, erratic lines in the grass behind me.

I bit my lip, taking a moment to calm my breathing. Could it be simple chance that brought us together? Would it have been better to hide, and let them pass? I dismissed the thought with a shake of my head. If they were here, it was Fate that brought them, and I knew better than to run from Fate. If this was truly a meeting of chance, then the playing field was even, giving me, with my unique abilities, the advantage. There was the demonic presence to consider as well. I had to bring it down before it stumbled upon the village. If the inquisitors were left to roam freely, I would risk being surrounded.

The forest rustled, bearing the sound of voices, and my chest tightened as a group of white-robed figures emerged from the trees. As I had guessed, they moved with an air of easy confidence, walking two by two, caught up in a casual conversation.

The first were familiar faces, an older woman, Leera, and the young, brown-haired girl Aqua. Leera’s soul was strained and withered, barely above the threshold of third level. Thick scars laced her mana, disrupting its normal flow, something that would hinder her as long as she lived. Aqua’s white cowl was drawn back, revealing a startling pretty face with piercing green eyes and short brown hair. Her soul blazed with power, a full half-step closer to fifth level than last we met.

Behind them marched four armored men, their plate gleaming in the afternoon sun. The shining metal carried the marks of many battles–divots, scars, and scratches–a promise of the extensive combat experience of the men who wore it. They carried an assortment of heavy weapons, from broadswords to long-handled halberds, the blades every bit as bright as their armor. They moved with a chilling synchronicity, their movements bearing the graceful, trained movements of those familiar with war.

Our eyes met, and the party stumbled to a stop, their faces growing slack with surprise. A shiver coursed down my spine as their gazes crawled over my crimson hair and horns, finally falling to the giant infernal wolf lying at my feet. Aqua in particular seemed taken aback, a glint of uncertainty flicking through her eyes.

Leera recovered first, throwing back her head in a harsh, bitter chuckle. ”Of all the places to meet a filthblood, a field of flowers seems least fitting. I was expecting to find you in the village, crawling beneath tables like the dog you are, begging for scraps.”

Her words brought a flush to my face, and I took a shallow breath, fighting to remain composed. An agitated swish in the air behind me let me know my efforts were waisted, my treacherous tail betraying me.

Leera scoffed, flicking her hand out in some sort of signal. Immediately, the armored men fanned out, forming a loose semicircle around me. In a flash of steel, their weapons were in their hands, though they kept their distance. For now.

Behind them, Aqua folded her arms, deep in thought, her piercing green eyes lingering on my face. After a moment, a smile tugged at her lips, and she raised a hand, smoothing a lock of short, brown hair behind her ear.

Her reaction baffled me, a sharp discord amid the tension. Wasn’t she the one who had led them here? This was supposed to be her battle, the proof of her calling as an inquisitor, so why wasn’t she acting more concerned?

Fable’s low growl tore me from my swirling thoughts, bringing me back to the meadow. Shaking my head, I forced a deep breath and began to gather my mana, asking ”Why? Why must you haunt me so? Haven’t I suffered enough already?”

Leera’s face contorted into a snarl. ”How can you even ask that, Filthblood? You murdered thousands of innocents and have put the entire northern continent at risk. Your enslavement and exile were all the gods could offer to bring peace to the minds of those hurt by your actions. I see now that even that was too merciful a punishment for the likes of you. Do you think it possible that we, agents of divine justice, could sit idly by while you stroll around in a meadow, sniffing flowers?”

Her words sent a shudder through my body, but taking a deep breath, I met her gaze. ”You speak of justice, yet you ally with the Circle. They’re monsters, inquisitor, not that it matters to you. Despite your white cloaks, you’re no more pure than the slavers, eager to hurt those weaker than you, to...to break their spirits...to rend their hearts...” My voice faltered, ending in a trembling whisper.

She stiffened at that, her aura turning jagged as her glare intensified. ”We’re nothing like those animals who serve only their pleasure. They are a crude but necessary means to an end, tools fit for dealing with filthbloods like yourself.”

She spat on the ground, and the inquisitor’s souls began to crackle. It was subtle, at first, a slight hitch in their breath, a tense of their muscles, but to the Eyes of Fate, their preparations were laid bare.

”Are your lives worth so little to you?” I asked softly, looking down at the flowers trampled beneath their feet. ”Please, I don’t want to kill you, but I...I have to protect them. I promised to be there, at their wedding. To get her flowers.” Tears gathered in my eyes as I looked at them, clasping my hand to my breast. ”So, even if you must follow me there, we can settle this some other way. Please.”

My plea felt hollow and empty, and Leera laughed, taking a step forward. I flinched as her boot crushed the delicate stalk of a flower, tearing the petals and pressing them into the mud.

”The gods demand your death, filthblood. It will be slow and agonizing, one drop of blood at a time. I look forward to overseeing your inquisition, when you share the last of your infernal secrets with us. Then, and only then, will I allow you the mercy of death. Such are the demands of justice.”

I closed my eyes, letting out a long breath, my tail flicking in frustration. Why were they so set on hurting me? Why did they care that I finally found somewhere I could have peace, to be happy? ”I’m sorry, but I have a promise to keep. Fable,” I said, my eyes flashing open. ”Let’s end this quickly.”

Fable howled, a deafening cry that shattered the tranquil peace of the meadow. The air crackled with mana, and his wolfen body blazed with the light of a thousand stars, rapidly swelling in size and length. Gone was the wolf lying obediently at my feet. In his place, a forty-foot-long infernal monster, nearly a quarter of the length of the meadow. Fable’s soul seething with power, radiating an aura that overwhelmed the inquisitors, sending them stumbling back in fright.

As he reached his full size, Fable let out another roar, and the ground cracked beneath his paws. Stray bolts of mana erupted from his soul, striking the ground around him like miniature shooting stars.

”Demon!” one of the men shouted, his voice hoarse with apprehension.

While the inquisitors fought to regain their composure, I tapped the base of my staff against the ground. ”Blade Ward.”

The mana I’d gathered surged from my soul, rapidly condensing in a flurry of runes. Within the space of a single breath, a fifth-circle array spun about me, slowly accelerating with every heartbeat. It wasn’t true Soul Casting, but something close to it. Our conversation had allowed me the time to compress all the mana I needed for the array, drastically reducing the cast time.

”What the hell?” one of the inquisitors cried, glancing at Aqua. His face twisted in indignation, knuckles whitening around his sword hilt. ”You said she was fourth level!”

Aqua replied with a shrug, her eyes never leaving my face. Her smile from before was gone, replaced by a look of concentration, yet she never took a battle stance. ”We’re up against Xiviyah, the one who single-handedly developed arrays. You didn’t think fighting one of the chosen heroes would be easy, did you?”

Xiviyah. Not filthblood. The sound of my name coming from Aqua’s lips sent a shock through me. There was no hate or scorn, merely...admiration? Pride? The thought twisted like a hot blade in my gut. That couldn’t be right, she was an inquisitor! The ones who had enslaved and tortured me, torn everything I ever cared about away.

I clutched my head, the tips of my fingers pressing into the base of my horn. I couldn’t be distracted anymore. There was too much at stake. Gripping my staff, a strangled cry tore from my lips. ”Fable, kill them all.”