The Forsaken Hero

A soft chill swept through the air, an astral breeze in the skies of Haven. It carried with it the scent of must and decay, causing me to wrinkle my nose in disgust. Having sensitive senses had its downsides, after all.

The gate had placed me somewhere far from any of the islands I recognized, likely out on the far edge of the realm. There were a few forgotten islands beyond me, but everything past them was a dark haze, with only a few distorted twinkling stars shining through. Haven continued to call out to me in the distance, a constant tug on my ears and soul, a quiet plea for help in the darkness.

I cautiously lowered my foot onto the first cobblestone of the makeshift bridge, my heart pounding in my chest. Squeezing my eyes shut, I shifted my weight onto it. My heart lurched as the stone dipped precariously, threatening to send me tumbling into the abyss below, but it gradually stabilized. After a few tentative tests, I took a shallow breath and moved forward a step, then another. Each rock felt loose and shaky, as if it might crumble at any moment, but they held.

Fable padded along behind me, seemingly unconcerned with our precarious footing. I gradually gained some confidence as well, but still breathed a sigh of relief upon reaching the other island, where a disheveled cottage stood amidst a few scraggly bushes. I started past it, heading for the next island, when a movement in my peripheral vision caught my eye. It was a small, almost imperceptible flicker of darkness in the cracked window, but by the time I turned my head, it was gone.

A chill crept down my spine. Someone, or perhaps something, had been there, right? Or was it just my imagination playing tricks on me? Fate knew this place was eerie enough already. Or was it some sign of the ’Remnants’ Haven had mentioned before? If only I had asked about them sooner...

Pushing the unsettling thought aside, I hurried onto the next island, my steps quickening. A broken tower and a section of a crumbled wall obstructed the far side, the rubble making it difficult to navigate. After picking my way around several oversized chunks of masonry, I gave up and allowed Fable to carry me.

With Fable’s speed, we made much better time, but it also afforded me the opportunity to observe my surroundings and investigate the prickles of unease that kept rising on the back of my neck. Occasionally, I caught more fleeting movements in the corner of my eyes, but never in the same place twice. These occurrences seemed to become more frequent the deeper we ventured into Haven’s depths.

I couldn’t help but question whether there was truly anything there at all. If Haven hadn’t mentioned these ”remnants,” would I even be searching for them? I’d felt their presence so often that I’d almost become numb to it, and I wondered if I was simply imagining the whole thing. Yet, each time I sensed something, I couldn’t help but look, convinced I’d just missed catching a glimpse of them.

After what felt like an eternity, my knuckles white from clinging to Fable’s fur, my eyes finally found a somewhat familiar landmark. It was a massive island, easily a mile long and just as wide, dominated by a sprawling fortress that seemed to grow out of the very earth. I’d never seen it from this angle before, but I recognized it as one of the islands visible from the Heart of Haven.

As we drew closer to the island, the ruins’ walls loomed over us, dwarfing any castle or fortress I’d seen in Enusia. The towers had crumbled, and no defenders patrolled the parapets, yet the sensation of being watched intensified as we stepped onto the island itself. A weed-choked road, paved with oddly uniform cobblestones, stretched before us, leading directly to the gaping entrance. The heavy iron gate, rusted a deep red, hung askew on its one remaining hinge, creaking faintly in the ethereal breeze.

Fable paused a hundred feet from the gates, his ears pricked. Wariness oozed from our soul bond, setting my already frayed nerves on edge. He hadn’t once hesitated until now, confidently stalking through the shadows as though he owned them, so why now, when we were so close to getting to the Heart?

”What is it?” I whispered, leaning over to speak into Fable’s ear, his fur warm against my cheek. ”Should we go around?”

He shook his head, sending a ripple through the thick mane of silver fur around his neck and shoulders. I glanced to the sides, and I had to agree with him. This fortress stood as a solitary obstacle in our path to the Heart. There were no other islands or paths leading toward the heart.

As we’d journeyed through Haven, we’d discovered that while the paths would eventually lead you anywhere, the further you were from other islands, the less material they had to draw from. Haven took a considerable amount of time to mobilize rubble from greater distances, slowing our travel as the rocks and clumps of dirt lazily drifted into a passable bridge.

Fable could probably leap over the entire fortress if he wanted to, but the thought of soaring so high above the ground, flying over islands and the even more terrifying void between them, made my heart skip a beat. I didn’t even have the courage to test if one could fall off an island, though I’d once thrown a rock off the edge, and it had sunk into the blackness as if it were a bottomless pool of water.

Without giving me a chance to ponder any longer, Fable whined softly and embraced his own mana. I tensed, scanning our surroundings for any sign of danger, but he simply let his power flow through him, causing his fur to stand on end and his eyes to glow with an eerie light. After gathering enough energy to level a small town, he began moving again, pushing through the gloom toward the fortress gate.

Gripping my staff tightly, I channeled my own mana, my gaze darting nervously around us. For a moment, I wished Gith were here. Perhaps he could sense these watchers with his unique ability.

Or perhaps not. Despite my conviction that something was out there, I’d failed to detect even the faintest trace of a soul or lingering magical residue. No creature I’d ever read about or encountered lacked a soul entirely, which made this all the more unsettling. Even if they were ghosts, shouldn’t they at least have remnants of a soul? And if they were powerful enough to make Fable wary, they should have been radiating enough mana to stand out like beacons to my senses.

The fortress remained eerily still and silent as we passed underneath the cavernous gates. The courtyard beyond must have once been beautiful and grand but had now fallen into ruin. Wide flowerbeds, framed by sculpted marble walls and benches, were cracked and faded, overgrown with dying weeds and encroaching shadows. Fragments of broken statues and pedestals littered the ground, and several areas were completely buried in rubble from where sections of the wall had collapsed.

The outer structures of the fortress were constructed entirely of white marble, now as faded and overgrown as the neglected flower beds. The architectural style was unfamiliar to me, but even in its dilapidated state, it exuded a sense of grace and strength that I hadn’t encountered anywhere else in Haven. Different parts of the realm seemed to hail from other worlds, or at least different cultures, and this one stood out uniquely among them. It possessed an almost... divine aura, reminiscent of the grand cathedrals of the Divine Throne.

That feeling intensified as Fable found the main street leading out of the outer grounds and we crossed into the city proper. Two-story buildings, similarly crafted from carved marble, lined the streets, with narrow, well-ordered alleys branching off into the city’s depths. There were shops, homes, even taverns and inns, growing increasingly opulent as we approached the keep at the fortress’s heart.

The street forked several times, and we chose the path that seemed most likely to lead us through the fortress to the other side. The city must have been small, entirely contained on the mile-wide island, yet now that we were immersed in its labyrinthine streets, it seemed to stretch on endlessly.

Despite the constant unease that kept my tail twitching anxiously, I couldn’t help but admire the craftsmanship and vision of those who had built and lived in this place.

What might it have looked like when it was whole? When the sagging walls stood tall and proud, and the dry fountains bubbled with crystal-clear water? Who might have lived here, when the streets were bustling and full of life?

Was it a peaceful haven filled with the laughter of children, or a strict, somber fortress teeming with soldiers? The imposing walls and defenses hinted at the latter, but I couldn’t reconcile that image with the city’s inherent beauty. It was too...beautiful, too easy to envision flowers blooming in the windows and children playing in the streets.

Just what kind of city was this? And why was I feeling so drawn to it?