The Forsaken Hero

The Gate Core glittered like a drop of morning dew, glowing with inner light. Millions of strands of mana, unseen to any eyes but my own, leaped from it like twine, binding the very fabric of the gate together. I could feel it coursing through the miniature world, shoring up the dimensional walls and driving it toward Enusia. With the gate commander dead, the core was like the helm of a ship without its master, waiting for me to take its power for my own.

But I couldn’t, not directly at least, or the infernal taint would corrupt and break my fragile soul apart. That was where the elemental spirit came in. At my nod, it broke into snowflakes once more, collapsing like a pillar of shining salt. The miniature storm swirled around me like a personal typhoon, the spirit’s mana sheathing my soul like a cloak. I could feel it all pulsing with my heartbeat, the soul bond a thousand times more intimate and intense than Fable’s had ever been.

Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate. It reminded me of the first time I ever attempted to cure infernal corruption, before Fable and I had linked and he was just a regular wolf. The spirit’s memories blended in with my own. At first, there was just cold and darkness, split by occasional blips of light. The flash of souls, and commands, followed each blip, like shackles settling around my heart.

Was this what happened when a spirit was summoned? I knew little of summoning beyond the spells to do it, but before I could learn more, a new blip of light enveloped me, bringing a whirl of sensations that filled my soul with fire. Not the painful kind, but of life, and light, and joy. I caught glimpses of a frozen tundra like the one we now stood within, and thousands of souls, both infernal and Enusian. One of them was strong and beautiful, shining among the others like the sun among stars. Tears came to my eyes as I experienced the spirit’s overwhelming gratitude and loyalty to this soul, as deep and intense as any emotion I’d felt before.

All too soon, the incredible warmth faded, and I felt the spirit’s longing for that soul as deeply as if it were mine own. Several more memories followed, each of a short burst of warmth as they were called to help that soul. But the soul grew weaker each time, leaving me with a growing sorrow. Until, at last, the spirit found the soul.

Before that memory could be fully realized, it was gone, and the spirit’s soul pulled back until our identities blurred no longer. I sniffed and brushed away an errant tear, overwhelmed by the depth of the spirit’s experience. It had seemed so foreign and alien to me, and many times had I questioned its intentions, but I could do so no longer. It felt as much a part of me as Fable did, bound by faith and memory.

”Are you prepared?” I heard the spirit’s voice in my mind.

I took a deep breath, feeling for the ache of sunpurge. It was gone, leaving me free of pain for the first time since Bluerock City, when I climbed the stone monolith with Korra. The only reminder of the dreadful scars was the soft glow on my shoulder and side, the latter barely filtering through the fabric of my silk dress.

”Let’s begin,” I said.

Its agreement echoed in my mind, prompting me to reach forward and grasp the floating Gate Core. The crystal was cold against my hand, but not uncomfortable. The moment it touched my skin, it was like a gate had opened, and mana flooded into my soul. It came as sharp and hard as a flash flood, breaking through my defenses like they were paper. My grip on the crystal tightened and my tail lashed as I braced myself, preparing for the torrent of pain I knew was coming.

But it didn’t. Before it penetrated the vulnerable depths of my soul, the Ice Spirit’s mana met it, striking with equally ferocious power. Light leaked from my starlit eyes as the two forces struggled for dominance, one an ascended being of ninth level, the other the breaking the strength of an entire realm. The air around me wavered like evaporating water vapor, a chaotic field of mana pushing farther away from me with every heartbeat.

The realm shuddered, several black cracks appearing in the air of the Core Chamber, signs that the dimensional walls were weakened. The ice Spirit’s soul jittered nervously at that, releasing a fresh wave of power, overwhelming the infernal mana of the gate. The tide of invading mana slowed to a trickle at that, and I took what felt like my first breath in ages. My entire body trembled from the effort of channeling so much mana, but the sunpurge was calm, devoid of the barest flicker of pain.

As the Ice Spirit stabilized the mana, I brought the Gate Core closer to me, holding it firmly in both hands. I let my staff float within arm’s reach, close enough to utilize its power while maintaining control of the core. I ran through the form and runes of Astral Winds in my head again, ensuring I had the entire spell memorized correctly.

Then, with a deep breath, I began to cast. I couldn’t Soul Cast this spell; it was far too complex to compress like that, but I didn’t need to. For every thread of mana I spun from my soul, the Ice Spirit allowed a trickle to enter, filtering the infernal corruption out along the way. I couldn’t trace the taint once it caught in its soul, but a being as powerful as it should have no problem distilling what I required to cast the spell.

Five Magic circles opened up in the air, overlapping with each other and forming a larger circle within the center. It was as profound as any array and more challenging to maintain than even a seventh-circle spell–the highest I had ever cast. But I hadn’t walked into this unprepared. Since reaching fifth level, I’d spent countless hours pouring over the spell Fate’s Ally taught me, working through every possible variation and attuning to my soul. Once Korra pointed out Fable’s similarities, I studied with his soul as a model, and my progress skyrocketed. Now, in the moment of truth, I formed each rune deliberately, filling it with the appropriate amount of mana before carefully setting it in its place in one of the circles.

The process was long and grueling, but I maintained focus, playing one rune at a time. Each one felt insignificant against the ten thousand the spell required, but I was meticulous. I couldn’t afford the loss a single lapse of attention would cause me. There was only one chance to get this right.

Time passed slowly, each minute blurring into the next. By the time I reached an hour, sweat dripped down my brow, and my legs shook with the effort of holding my weight. But it was okay because I finally finished the spell. It had taken me longer to cast Astral Winds than it had even Mana Storm the first time, but I succeeded on my first attempt, whereas that had taken me several. Which was good, because I doubted I was strong enough to restart and try again, or that I had enough time before the sunpurge salve wore off.

The six magic circles spiraled inward, collapsing with me as the focal point. They overlapped and became one circle, spinning slowly around my chest. I gasped, my eyes wide and tail stiffening, as several tendrils of mana extended from the circle and penetrated my soul. They moved like a weaver’s loom, beginning the slow, arduous process of stitching the rends and gaps in my soul together.

The analogy was genuinely fitting, the mana acting like the thread it so resembled and my soul an incredibly complex, multidimensional stretch of fabric. It filled me with cold discomfort, each thread a tiny prick of pain as it wove through my soul. The pain only increased as progress was made, manifesting as a dull ache and strain on my soul. It was exhausting, but the pain was nothing compared to the agony of breaking my soul in the first place, nor did it come close to the constant burn of the sunpurge. I could handle it, for now, at least.

I had complete control over the spell, directing the process however I saw fit. Much of the work had been done in the drafting of the final version of the spell, when I used Fable as the model, but it often required my conscious attention to ensure things went just right. I’d studied my wolf’s soul until I knew as well as my own, which it was, of course, but a soul wasn’t so easy to memorize. Had he not stood beside me throughout the whole process, fixing even a portion of my soul would have been impossible.

As we approached the two-hour mark, the cavern shook as a distant explosion rocked the gate. My focus wavered as another followed it, and then another, growing steadily closer. The shockwaves began to penetrate the chamber but weren’t yet strong enough to overpower Adaptive Resistance. Even so, at this distance, the fact that I felt them at all was worrying. Just what in the world was happening? Was there a hidden sixth-level demon? Had someone else invaded the gate?