The Forsaken Hero

The moon penetrated the thin cloud cover, casting a soft, pale light upon the rugged mountains. Still, it was dark enough that I needed my demonkin vision to make out more than vague shapes. Luke led us down a steep game trail, winding through the valleys until we neared one of the outlying forts.

”Xiviyah,” he said, turning to face me with a frown. ”We’ll leave your wolf behind here, and you’ll need to drop your wards.”

My tail instinctively curled up, hidden beneath the illusion, and I took a shaky breath.

He must have seen the panic in my eyes because his expression softened slightly. ”It’s alright; I’ll protect you,” his voice was gentler than usual. ”But both it and the golden glow of your wards will give us away, especially this late at night.”

I hesitated, reluctance tying a knot in my stomach, before sliding off Fable’s back. The snow was deeper than I anticipated, and my boots sank with a soft crunch, sending a jolt of icy cold up my legs. I stumbled, but Luke was there in an instant, one hand firm on my arm, the other a warm pressure against my back. I froze, my heart fluttering, as our faces were just inches apart, my hands resting on his chest for support.

His eyes, brown because of the illusion, met mine, and I saw my own anxious face reflected in their depths. But there was something more there, too. He’d always seemed soft whenever it came to me, disregarding the normal ruthlessness he showed others, but for the first time, I felt a warmth, a gentleness that belied the coldness I’d come to associate with him. The aura of his curse, usually so prominent, was barely noticeable.

A faint red tinged my cheeks as I caught myself staring, a shaky breath reminding my lungs I had to breathe. A few fragmented memories of our entanglement drifted through my mind, and I found myself drawn to him, allowing him to hold me long after I’d steadied.

Jessia’s cough brought me back to my senses, and I quickly retreated against Fable, pressing myself back into his side, hands grasping at his fur behind me. I stared wide-eyed at Luke, who gazed at me as if in a daze before finally giving himself a shake. The feeling of his hand against my back, of our skin touching, lingered, and I quickly averted my eyes, hoping to hide my blush.

”Sorry, but please be careful. The snow hides a lot of rocks and roots,” he said, rubbing his horn. He tried to flash me a teasing smile, but it came off a little too sincere. ”Unless you want me to carry you, of course.”

It must have been the cold, or perhaps just the poor lighting, but there seemed to be a faint flush on his cheeks. Or perhaps I was just imagining it.

”You two...” Jessia said, shaking her head in mock disbelief. A playful smirk tugged at her lips, and I felt my cheeks flush even deeper.

”I-I’m sorry for the trouble,” I stammered, quickly lowering my head and giving the beginnings of a curtsey. ”I’ll be more careful.”

I felt Fable shift behind me, and glancing at him, I was surprised to see my wolf glaring at Luke, his hackles raised. I rested a hand on his shoulder, stroking his fur in what I hoped was a reassuring manner.

”It’s alright,” I said, half to convince myself as much as the giant wolf. ”We’ll be back soon, right?”

I directed the last question at Luke, who nodded in confirmation. The answer didn’t seem to mean much to Fable, though. He could sense my unease through our bond, the fear that caused my chest to tighten as I faced the prospect of being alone with the apostles. Hiding anything from him was impossible.

It wasn’t so easy the other way around, though. I wished I could understand the emotions swirling within him, the reason for his continued glare at Luke, but the close encounter with the demonkin had left my head spinning, making it difficult to discern Fable’s emotions clearly. He was worried and protective—that much I knew. But there was something else there, a flicker of something directed at Luke I couldn’t quite grasp.

I continued to pet Fable until my heart slowed, no longer pounding in my chest. His growl softened to a worried rumble as he nuzzled my cheek, and I wrapped my arms around his neck in a final hug. He had grown so much that I had to stand on my tiptoes to reach all the way around his neck and get my fingertips to touch.

”I’ll call you if I need you,” I whispered, giving him a reassuring pat.

There was a strange look in his piercing golden eyes, as though he thought I were the one who needed the reassurance. Had he hands, I was certain he would have tried to pat me in return.

Dismissing my wards was easier than saying goodbye to Fable. I didn’t trust Luke or Jessia to protect me, but I had faith in my own abilities. I’d mastered soul casting up to the sixth circle, and the Oracle of Eternity would warn me of any impending danger. I felt confident in my ability to react swiftly; exposure wouldn’t matter at that point.

Still, being defenseless left me feeling vulnerable. Coupled with Fable’s absence, it forced an uncomfortable reliance on the two apostles. I hated this feeling of powerlessness.

As we trekked down the mountain to get a closer look at the fort, I couldn’t help but be reminded of my days adventuring with Soltair. Just how many mountains had we crossed? How many trails and valleys had I followed him through?

It was hard to believe it had been over a year since we left the Divine Throne. In the months that followed, we had hiked through many mountains like these, and I had been just as dependent on him as I was now on Luke. The power dynamic was eerily similar, too. Though Soltair had tried to hide it, I was but an extension of his desire to be a hero and a stepping stone to more political power and influence.

My relationship, if you could even call it that, with Luke wasn’t too different. In the few times we’d met, and ever since being captured by his army in Brithlite, I was treated as a strategic tool. I felt a sense of kinship and closeness with him stemming from our soul entanglement, but he always felt a step away from turning on me. I didn’t understand why he treated me so well or always had the patience to consider my feelings, but it was probably because he felt the same way as I did. At the end of the day, though, I was a strategic weapon he could use to understand and predict his enemy’s movements, a tool to assure his victory over the gods.

At the very least, Luke left me free. He was the Apostle of Curses and could likely invent a curse that could overpower Adaptive Resistance, but he chose not to. Instead, he acknowledged the reality of our relationship, something Soltair had never been honest enough to do. It was my choice to help Luke. It wasn’t much of one, not with his threat about R’lissea, but it was mine all the same.

Lost in my thoughts, I stumbled over a buried rock, falling right into Luke’s arms. The steep hills and valleys, not to mention the rugged, snow-covered cliffs, were rough, practically impassable for me, but it was hardly the first time I’d nearly fallen. As he set me back on my feet, I noticed he lingered close this time, always an arm’s length away, ready to catch me should I falter again.

When we came to more boulders and even a narrow meltwater channel, he extended his hand, offering to help me across. I hesitated, still flustered by our earlier closeness, but another near miss forced me to swallow my pride and trust him.

Each time our hands met, a jolt of surprise ran through me. He was so warm, his touch a stark contrast to the biting cold. And each time he swept me across a ravine, a hand on my waist holding me close against him, I couldn’t help but flinch, startled by his surprising care.

His aura was still coarse and oily, an unconscious reminder of things I’d rather forget, but just as I had with the chaotic nature of demon souls, I was slowly acclimating to it. As we neared the fort, I found myself anticipating his touch, pausing beside more difficult obstacles and waiting for him to extend his hand before even attempting to try on my own. It wasn’t the same as riding Fable, but the little thrill I felt every time our fingers brushed was almost worth it.

But just as I was beginning to feel comfortable with his presence, with the warmth of his touch against mine, we reached the fort. It loomed before us, a dark silhouette against the snow-covered landscape, a stark reminder of why we had come. A shiver ran down my spine, and I subtly shifted away from Luke. No matter how much he seemed to genuinely care that I was safe, I could never forget who he was or the lengths he would go to for his revenge. I was just a tool to him, something to maintain so I would serve him properly.

He was an apostle, after all, and a leader who stood similar to, if against, Soltair. They were the same, and if I were to get hurt again, I would only have myself to blame. I had to keep my distance.