The Forsaken Hero

I stared at the glowing magic circle in horror, barely suppressing a sob as a familiar, blinding pain seared across my chest. I clutched at my breasts, my throat tightening in panic, but relief washed over me as I confirmed the slave crest was still gone. The pain was just a phantom, a memory that even now haunted my nightmares.

But it wasn’t entirely imaginary. An uncomfortable pressure built against my soul as the magic circle continued to grow, each new rune intensifying its power. It would take time for the spell to reach the strength needed to overcome my resistance, but once it did... I shuddered, my tail twisting anxiously. It was too much to contemplate. I couldn’t be enslaved again. I couldn’t!

”Relax and let the Joys claim you, and it’ll all be over. Let me, Lord Coufyx in, and I promise you’ll have peace. Submit to me, Xiviyah. Let your name ring true once more.”

Half-blind with panic and too desperate to think clearly, I grasped at my mana, trying again and again to cast a spell. Something, anything!

But it was futile. The fate magic I’d relied on my entire life had been turned against me, and now, alone, encircled by flames, I was going to be enslaved again. There was nothing I could do. Tears blurred my vision, and I slumped, my tail falling limp in defeat.

”Freeze, beast!” Lord Coufyx’s voice boomed through the chamber. ”Move again and your master suffers!”

I looked up as he shouted, only to scream as the flames crept closer, searing my skin. It wasn’t severe enough to blister or blacken, but the intense heat was enough to send my thoughts scattering and my body writhing in agony.

After a moment, the man lowered his hand and the flames retreated, leaving me slumped on the ground, my chest heaving with ragged breaths. Half-blinded by tears, I managed to open my eyes a fraction, making out Fable just paces away from the Circle members, his teeth bared and hackles raised. He’d tried to reach me the moment the trap was sprung, but the concentrated Mana Storm had severed his access to my abilities, leaving him powerless to slow time and save me.

”Good dog,” Lord Coufyx said with a cruel chuckle. ”Now stay there and watch as I become your new master. And as for you,” he said, turning back to me, ”try anything and these slaves will suffer. If you cooperate, I give you my word they will be free, so if anything happens to them, their blood will be on your hands.”

”Why?” I pleaded, my voice breaking. ”I can’t be–please, no. I can’t.”

He shook his head theatrically, his amusement twisted and cruel. ”Begging already? And so polite too. What’s more, Alverin claimed you’ve never been...despoiled, either. You really are the perfect slave. Pity he found you first, but I’m sure he won’t mind if you arrived, shall we say, a little less pure. After all, once this crest binds your soul, you’ll be more susceptible to our new Heart Crest, no? And then,” his lips curled up, ”You’ll be begging me.”

I shuddered and curled up, choking back a sob. Everything had happened so quickly that the trap sprung before I could even react. And yet, that one threat hung in the air, crystal clear amid the haze of pain, heavy and inescapable. Was this truly how it was going to end? Was I going to join Elise on Alverin’s lap, pleading for him to hurt and rape me?

Everything had aligned perfectly for this ambush, as though Fate itself was working against me. Given my opponent was the Fate Hero, perhaps it was. From leaving my guards behind to walking directly into their trap, every decision had led me here. If I so much as moved, or tried to escape, those innocent children would suffer and die. I couldn’t help but see Aurle or Sari in them, their tear-stained faces pleading with me. Begging. And worst of all, my own Mana Storm had been weaponized against me, stripping my defenses and leaving me unable to cast even the simplest spell.

Or had it? The chaotic mana raged outside my soul, attacking even the slightest hint of a spell, tearing it apart from within. But I’d managed to hold it at bay initially, and my soul was still intact. It was small, a solitary star in the inky blackness, but I clung to it, shielding it from the despair that threatened to engulf me.

I hadn’t come this far to surrender now. If not for myself, and the glimmer of light I desperately sought, then for Elise. She was counting on me, even if she didn’t realize it.

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, but the tears continued to flow. My chest ached, and each breath was a struggle, but I forced a whisper past my trembling lips. ”I’m sorry.”

With a labored breath, I pushed myself to my feet, my legs shaking under the weight of my despair and the relentless pressure of the mana storm.

”What are you doing? Kneel!” Lord Coufyx roared. He raised his hand, and the flames surged closer, charring my dress and licking at the edges of the sunpurge. I tasted blood as I bit my lip, holding back a scream, but through it all, I took a defiant step forward.

”I’m sorry,” I whispered again, the words broken and hollow.

The cult member on the left shifted, glancing at Lord Coufyx. The Lord’s eyes smoldered with rage, and he nodded sharply.

A young, tender scream filled the air, drowning out everything as it echoed in my ears. The young elf girl choked, her hands flying to her throat, as the man released her. Blood streamed through her fingers, and her scream turned to a wet gurgle. I took another step, screaming myself as the fire clawed up my leg. Tears evaporated the instant they left my eyes, and the pain in both my heart and body was crippling.

”Get back to your place, slave!” Lord Coufyx’s voice was a whip crack of fury. ”Or the other one dies an even worse death!”

Another step and I was fully engulfed in the searing flames. My skin hissed and blistered, turning black, but it was nothing compared to the agony of the sunpurge. My soul was weakened, and as the flames devoured the glowing scars, they began to spread, eating away at my flesh. The marks on my shoulder crawled down my back, while those on my side crept across my stomach and thigh. The pain was unbearable, worse than anything I’d ever experienced, even the full punishment of the Slave Crest. But somehow, through sheer force of will, I managed to take another step.

And that step proved the last one, as my legs collapsed, and I fell to the floor. But I was free, just over the line of the Mana Storm. Its influence hadn’t entirely faded, clinging to me like fog, but the sudden decrease in pressure allowed me to finally draw a breath of hot, scorching air. Casting a spell should still be impossible, but that hope in my heart, the one spark carrying me through the pain, ignited.

”Dispel Magic,” I croaked, stretching out a hand toward the inquisitor.

He chuckled, shaking his head. ”After all that, you think I’d allow you to cast a spell? Not even I can cast much from here, and you barely escaped the circle. You’re only hurting yourself, and–” he nodded at the other guard, ”murdering children.”

I squeezed my eyes shut as another wet scream filled the air, slowly rising over several seconds. As promised, the boy’s death was quick, but it was just as final. My heart sank, growing heavier as his body thumped into the unforgiving stone. For a moment, I was back in my master’s mansion, Aurle’s corpse clutched in my arms. No more. Please, no more.

”Disappear.”

The word barely escaped my lips, a faint whisper lost in the roar of the flames. But Lord Coufyx stiffened, his eyes widening in terror. His lips parted in a silent gasp, and his hands flew to his chest, groping blindly for something within himself he’d never be able to grasp. Visible only to my eyes, his soul shuddered and recoiled from the small, almost imperceptible ribbon of mana extending from my outstretched hand.

His mouth opened in a soundless scream as my spell found the core of his soul. I didn’t know precisely what I was doing, not like I had with Levin, but unraveling the delicate tapestry of his existence was as simple as finding the first loose thread. From there, Dispel Magic triggered a chain reaction, coursing through his soul and destroying the very fibers of fate that had woven him into being.

A single, strangled whisper escaped his throat as he dropped to his knees, the life fading from his eyes. Immediately, the Soul Crest and the circle maintaining the fire disappeared, and cold, beautiful air swept in, caressing my severe burns like the arctic breeze. The two sixth-circle cultists stared at the lifeless corpse of their leader for a moment before turning their gazes back to me.