The Forsaken Hero

As Gayron and Victor clashed in a fiery duel, Verity turned her attention to me, her beautiful silver eyes filled with grim determination. Her form blurred, projecting afterimages out before her, as if she were moving in multiple directions simultaneously. It was a dizzying display, making her attacks nearly impossible to predict. Even with the Oracle of Eternity allowing me to lock onto her soul, I found myself disoriented, unsure of where her strike would come from.

Korra had no such hesitation. She dashed forward, surrounded by a swirling storm of mana, and leaped directly at the real Verity. A crystal-clear note rang out as her fist met the tip of Verity’s sword, a shockwave rippling across the battlefield. Without giving the Fate Hero a chance to recover, Korra unleashed a flurry of punches and kicks, her limbs flowing with water mana.

Verity was immediately forced on the defensive, struggling to keep up with the relentless assault. There was no need for Korra to resort to exhausting seventh-level arts or techniques; the sheer pressure of her attacks was enough to overwhelm the Fate Hero completely.

Verity’s sword flashed with silver light as she desperately parried each blow, forced back step by step. While graceful, her movements were stiff and hesitant compared to Korra’s fluid, almost dance-like fighting style. Every time she attempted a counterattack, Korra was already a step ahead, having effortlessly maneuvered out of range.

Even to my untrained eyes, the difference in combat experience was stark. Even if their levels were reversed, I doubted the outcome would change. It was painfully apparent that Verity had very little combat experience, or even rigorous training for that matter.

Verity let out a small, pained cry as Korra’s fist slipped past her guard, landing squarely on her chest. The impact sent her flying backward, crashing through a large boulder and crumpling onto the ground. She struggled to her knees, coughing wetly, splattering the ground with droplets of blood.

”Damn it,” she rasped, wiping away a trickle of blood from her lips. ”I hoped to touch you at least once.”

Korra snorted and advanced, a long, coiling water serpent swirling around her arm, its form shimmering with power. ”You’re young, Verity, and I’ve been doing this for a long time. I don’t know what kind of training you have or what masters have taught you, but it’s nothing compared to the lessons of the battlefield.”

Verity bit her lip and struggled to her feet, her eyes flashing with resolve. ”Still, I have to try,” she said, her voice breaking with emotion. ”I can’t let you do this. The people in this world are so kind and giving. How could you just hurt them like this? Don’t you know what you’re doing is wrong?”

”You know nothing about this world,” Korra countered, her voice laced with bitterness, ”only what the gods have selectively allowed you to see. Your arrival may have been heralded by trumpets and flower petals, but did they tell you what happened to the last Fate Hero?”

Verity’s gaze flickered towards me, and she shook her head slowly. Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath, and Korra seemed content to let her recover.

”Figures,” Korra muttered, her hands clenching into fists. ”They brought her in chains, Verity. They broke her body and spirit. Do you even know where she got her sunpurge?”

Again, Verity could only shake her head.

”If you survive this,” Korra said, her voice icy, ”ask Soltair about it. He might remember. And while you’re at it, ask him about the Circle of Chains and one Lord Gayron. See if you can figure out the business transaction they had together.”

With that, she lunged forward again, this time using a sixth-level art. Verity’s hands shot up, summoning a fifth-level protection spell, but Korra’s art smashed right through it. She barely got her sword up in time, but still took the blow hard, stumbling back a few steps.

”There’s so much death.”

A soft, mournful voice beside me caused me to glance away from the battles raging all around us, to where R’lissea stood, her staff held in both hands, gazing across the battlefield. She turned her head to look at me, her emerald eyes glinting with tears in the flickering explosions of the battlefield.

”Why do we have to do this?” R’lissea asked, her voice a soft, almost pleading whisper. She took a hesitant step towards me, her question filled with genuine sincerity. Her lower lip trembled with emotion, echoing the reluctance I felt, the pain that echoed through me whenever an innocent life was lost.

”Aren’t you here to capture me? Shouldn’t we be fighting too?” I responded, my voice wary, keeping a cautious distance between us. Even if we shared similar sentiments, connecting with her like this could only bring me more pain. She was my enemy, and lowering my guard would only allow her to strike.

She disregarded my attempts at distance, drifting closer until we were only a few feet apart. ”Aren’t we, though?” She gestured towards where her summoned elemental grappled with Fable, their battle causing as much destruction as the rest of the armies combined.

”Is that really enough?” I met her eyes, finding them soft and filled with a profound sadness.

”I think so?” she tilted her head, the gesture innocent and vulnerable. ”The truth is, you don’t have any spells that can hurt me, and none of my attack magic can get past your resistance. There’s not much point in either of us fighting like them.”

She waved off-handedly towards the others. I simply nodded, a heavy silence settling between us, punctuated only by the distant rumble of mana cannons and the earth-shaking clashes of our monstrous allies.

My tail swished nervously through the brittle autumn grass as I shifted my weight, a sense of unease prickling my skin. ”R’lissea, um... thank you,” I finally managed to say.

Her elfin eyes widened slightly, and she took a half-step back, regarding me with confusion. ”What? But why?”

I lowered my eyes, unable to meet her gaze. ”For trying to free me. In the Divine Throne.”

”It... it seemed like the right thing to do,” she said, her voice soft. She hesitated, twirling a strand of her long golden hair around her finger. ”Well, um, the truth is, I wanted to see you before then, to get to know you. And when Korra told me what they were doing, what Alex was doing, it just... didn’t seem right. I’m sorry we were too late.”

”No, don’t be,” I said, my gaze fixed on the city of Brithlite. ”It wasn’t your fault. It was those monsters.”

She was quiet for a moment, her eyes lingering on my face. Then, in a small voice, she asked, ”You don’t... don’t want to be here, do you?”

A shiver ran down my spine. I gripped my hands together, avoiding her gaze. ”No,” I replied, my voice barely a whisper. ”I don’t want to be anywhere near here. I just want... to have peace. To forget all of the darkness and pain.”

”It wasn’t just at the Divine Throne, that one time, that I wanted to see you,” she confessed, her voice barely audible. ”I wanted to meet you as soon as they found you. But Ronin... well, he wouldn’t let me.”

I glanced at her, surprised. Wouldn’t let her? Just what kind of relationship had those two shared?

She blushed slightly, and this time, it was she who broke away first. ”It’s just that he was so kind to me and protected me when we were first summoned,” she explained, her voice soft. ”I was alone and afraid, and he was there. I think that’s... that’s why I didn’t see who he really was.”

”I know what you mean,” I replied softly, understanding dawning in my heart. ”I was the same.”

During the ensuing silence, I turned my attention back to my spell. It was nearly finished, just a few hundred more souls to weave into the protective web. My focus was so intense I almost screamed as the sunpurge suddenly advanced again, this time taking half an inch down my left shoulder blade.

I gripped my staff tighter, enduring the relentless pain, but flinched as a cool, comforting hand rested on my shoulder. Powerful life magic flowed into my body, bypassing my wards, and the agony receded until I could finally open my eyes again.

R’lissea stood before me, her brow furrowed with concern. I gasped as her magic intensified, weaving a familiar pattern through the sunpurge. Most surprisingly, it worked, soothing the fiery burn. It was a familiar feeling, one my body naturally trusted and accepted, which must have been how her magic passed through my wards.

When the pain faded, I stiffened as I realized her arms were around me, her skin soft and warm against mine. ”Does it still hurt?” she crooned, gently stroking my hair.

”H-how?” I stammered, jerking away from her. ”How can you...why did you...?”

A look of hurt flashed across her face as I tore away, but it was gone just as quickly, replaced by a look of concern as I winced again, holding my side. The sunpurge had taken another step there.

”It’s spreading, isn’t it,” she said in a terrified whisper.

I nodded, recovering from this one on my own. It hadn’t been nearly as bad.

Her concern deepened, and she half raised a hand toward me, lips parted. Before she could say anything else, a solitary storm cloud formed overhead, crackling with lighting. A tremendous presence descended from overhead, a lightning bolt flashing toward us.

It was then I finally found the last soul, and, as the scent of ozone filled my nostrils, finished my spell. ”Grand Aegis!”