The Forsaken Hero

The march to the gate was the shortest journey I’d ever been on, taking all of five minutes on Fable’s back. The rest of the army took a little longer, about an hour between preparing to march and the last squad arriving. The terrain surrounding our destination was more of the same rolling hills and small peaks caught fast in the grip of winter, with sprawling pine forests and light undergrowth.

The Gate was enormous, rivaling the Fire Gate I accidentally called outside Bluegate Keep. The massive vortex of energy was alive with frosty white and blue, emitting the distinct mana signature of ice demons. It was a relatively young gate, the bottom hovering a good twenty feet above the nearest hill and, by all estimates, still a few weeks away from breaking.

”Not bad,” Korra muttered, eyeing the gate appreciatively. ”I’ve never been inside a sixth-level gate before.”

I glanced at her, my tail twitching in surprise. ”Really? I thought they were commonplace now.”

”Yeah, now. But the first ones to appear were the gates you and the archon closed, and I left my duties as a hero almost immediately after that. I probably could have taken one on my own then, but I didn’t have the chance.”

I nodded and turned back to the gate. The Korra I remembered from back then was absurdly powerful, commanding seventh-level summon spells. I’d never had a chance to see her in an actual battle before, but I could only imagine the devastation her magic would cause. She’d chosen a different approach to her life after the Water God reclaimed her power but likely wasn’t weaker than the mage version of herself. The only difference was their fighting styles.

Mages typically excelled against armies, but individuals with the same power level as themselves could resist almost anything they could throw at them. But Korra’s current abilities were the complete opposite. She had limited wide-scale destruction attacks, but her arts and abilities allowed her to fight even over-level opponents, something that was all but impossible for even the most skilled warriors and demons.

”May I ask what your plan is, my la–erm, Xiviyah,” Luxxa asked, favoring my name awkwardly.

I smiled at her, unable to stop the tip of my tail from flicking gratefully. She especially struggled to adjust to my request to refer to me by name. It likely had something to do with her noble background and strict adherence to customs, but I appreciated her efforts.

As for her question, I didn’t have much of an answer, really, and looked at Kahlen for help. The blade demon shifted, and its core vibrated gently, a sign that it was deep in thought.

”I’m afraid there is no easy solution to this, Xiviyah,” it said slowly. ”In order to take full advantage of its powers, you must be in the core chamber. There will be tens of thousands of demons in that gate, and at least several as powerful as the other demons I have with me.”

”The core chamber?” Korra asked, raising an eyebrow. ”That’s the thing we destroy to close the gate, correct?”

It was new terminology for us in Enusia, and the demon confirmed it with his following words. ”Indeed. The Gate Core is the epicenter for controlling the interdimensional bubble demons invade worlds through. From what you have said of your actions in the ice gate, you have a high affinity for interacting with infernal mana, but not even that will be enough for the project you have in mind.”

”Can you convince the demons to stand down and allow us access?” I asked.

Kahlen’s hum changed frequency to that of amusement. ”Would you stand by as this Alverin invades villages and takes their children as slaves?”

My tail stiffened, and a bit of aura escaped my soul. ”Is that how it is?”

”It is,” it said, ”Just as there are divisions among humans, we demons are hardly united. Beyond the apparent differences in factions and attributes, demons will fight for any reason. The demon realms are places of constant warfare and infighting, where only the powerful survive to lead. It’s no different when we invade mortal worlds, but even worse. We are a deathless existence, and ’dying’ only sends us back to our realm. The only consequence of such is losing the opportunity of stepping foot on a mortal world.”

Korra sighed and looked up at the gate, her eyes tracing its swirls. ”So you’re saying it’s impossible to negotiate with them. The worst thing that can happen to them isn’t dying, but being denied access to this world and the chance to absorb souls.”

The blade demon nodded. ”If we succeed in gaining control of the gate, they will unlikely see the surface of Enusia. So they might as well fight and die because they’ll be headed back to the demon realm anyway.”

It was a difficult situation for us, but not because I felt bad for killing demons. Instead, I was reluctant to ask Bethiv to invade the gate and put the lives of my friends and allies at risk. Orion’s death was still a fresh wound in my heart, and I hated the thought of condemning others to death.

A sudden gust of wind blew through my cloak, piercing my wards and sending a chill down my spine. I hugged the garment closer about me and sunk lower in Fable’s fur, trembling from the cold. The others shivered as well, all except Kahlen, who had no need for warmth anyway.

Wait, that couldn’t be right. My magic protected me from any source of cold weaker than fourth-level. I frowned as another burst of wind and snow surrounded us, a tingle racing through my soul. Fable’s bond was nestled in my chest, but there was another, just as big and close beside it.

Kahlen hissed, his blades clacking, as he suddenly leaped back, and Korra mustered her mana, taking a fighting stance. Before I even turned to see what had startled them, I felt a familiar presence appear behind me, and the bond within my soul solidified.

”Greetings, Star Mother,” a distant voice whispered.

Hundreds of thousands of heavy snowflakes funneled from across the sky, condensing in a cloud a few feet in front of Fable’s paws. I slid off my wolf’s back and stepped forward, watching in awe as a figure coalesced within the snow. It took on the visage of an armored man chiseled from ice and clear and bright as crystal. I’d felt his coming in the threads of fate and known beforehand I would find him here, yet I still found myself taken aback by his appearance.

The spirit was tall, almost a foot and a half taller than me, and broad-shouldered. The armor was the same design as the avatars the spirit had sent me, yet felt...real, shining lustrously in the gathering mana. When his sapphire eyes flashed open, the wind abruptly stilled, and snowflakes froze in place, standing motionless in the air. The entire storm seemed to hold its breath, as though afraid of drawing the attention of the Ice Spirit.

Before we could react to the sudden appearance, the spirit knelt on one knee before me. I took a sharp breath, frozen in place, as he took my hand and raised it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of my hand.

”I’ve come for you,” he said, lifting his head to meet my wide-eyed gaze.

His words shocked me out of my stupor, and I snatched my hand back, gripping it tightly in my other. The gesture had been so swift and unexpected, yet tender. His gauntleted hand had dwarfed mine entirely, yet I hadn’t felt a single wisp of aura or danger from the spirit. It hadn’t even been cold, either, just...smooth. A heated blush made its way across my face as I stepped back, bumping into Fable and trying to melt into his fur.

”I-it’s you,” I stammered, unable to return its gaze. ”It’s really you. From the Ice Gate.”

It inclined its head once, then rose from where it knelt. ”I’m pleased to be remembered by one as noble as yourself. I’ve sought you long and hard for countless cycles of your sun, but only ever able to send a fraction of my power to aid you in your darkest times.”

”Thank you,” I said softly, pressing my hands to my chest, a warm feeling rising in my heart. The feel of glassy lips on my hand still lingered, but my embarrassment had faded, and I sincerely meant my gratitude. I didn’t understand how he hijacked my spells, but his avatars had always been strong and reliable, saving me many times.

”Xiviyah,” Korra said, stepping up beside me. She sized the ice spirit up and down, and her eyes narrowed. ”He’s less...impressive than I imagined.”

The ice spirit chuckled, a sound like melting snow. ”I’ve no form of my own, only that which my master desires of me. Beyond that, I’ve hidden my aura for fear of hurting those too weak to stand in my presence.”

The spirit suddenly stiffened, turning toward Kahlen, who had taken a step toward us. ”That’s far enough, demon. I have suffered your presence thus far out of respect for the Star Mother, but do not push it.”

Kahlen raised its four-bladed limbs, bowed slightly, and returned to its previous position. The display of difference was a little shocking, and I couldn’t help but feel my eyes widen. The blade demon had never once shown respect to anyone but me, even disregarding the Justice Hero as nothing more than a child. If he acted this way around the spirit, there was no doubt of its strength.

Not that I questioned it. The strength of our bond alone said more than words ever could, and I could feel the power flowing through the storm. Not just the crystalline knight before us, but the entire storm. Looking back, it was something I’d felt since the first snow started falling. The same power I’d felt in the Fate’s Ally that day above High Valley, or the Pope when he unleashed his aura.

The anomaly was a ninth-level being. That meant a ninth-level being had just kissed my hand.