The Forsaken Hero

The silver collar clinked softly as it bounced once, then twice, vibrating as it settled on the ground. Slowly, I opened my eyes, blinking away tears. I lay on the ground, cheek pressed against the cold stone. Lord Evlon’s boot was inches in front of my face.

”Hmm, that wasn’t supposed to happen,” he muttered. His hand entered my field of view, picking up the silver band.

I struggled to my knees, chest heaving from the effort. Every fiber of my being hurt, from the sharp ache of my neck to the burning, half-healed cut on my tail. Golden starlight radiated from my body, casting a faint glow on the ground around me.

With a deep breath, I rose to my feet, staggering once before I reached out, instinctively calling my staff. The crystal haft materialized in my hand in a burst of stars, and I caught myself before I fell.

Lord Evlon stood motionless, staring at the collar. He hadn’t seemed to notice I’d regained my footing, though there was little reason for him to. He was a peak eighth-level inquisitor, and I was a sobbing, helpless child who shouldn’t even have enough mana to cast a spell.

”You lied to me,” I said, catching my breath.

His lips curled in a disapproving frown. ”Can one even lie to a slave?”

A tremor ran through my soul as a familiar mana signature drifted by. There were hundreds, if not thousands, of such mana traces, and yet...my heart fluttered within my chest, and I bit my lip, blinking furiously to hold back the tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that soul.

Lord Evlon snorted and tossed the broken collar to the ground. ”Weeping after only this much? After everything you’ve done, your previous visit to the Divine Throne will seem a paradise.”

”I’m here,” I whispered, ”Please, find me. I’m here.”

”What?” he frowned. ”Enough foolishness. If you won’t be bound by me here, I’ll see to it you’re bound at the Divine Throne. Fitting, considering it’s where you first became a slave.”

He stepped toward me, hand groping toward me. I shrank back, clutching my staff in both hands.

”You’re wrong,” I said, mustering all of my mana, compressing it in my soul. ”I won’t ever be a slave again!”

A thunderous roar split the sky, followed by an incredible mana surge. Lord Evlon whirled, eyes widening, as a colossal impact shook the walls. The gate rattled on its hinges, bulging inward, the enchantments winking out one after the other. Shouts and screams rose from the soldiers atop the wall, punctuated by the discharge of the mana cannons.

”Fall in formation!” a passing commander shouted.

Soldiers fell into action, swarming across the courtyard to form up in front of the gate. Magic circles sprouted up like weeds, showering the ranks with supportive effects. Offensive magic streamed from the towers to the ground below, disappearing out of view until their explosions topped the walls.

”What devilry is this?” Lord Evlon asked, grabbing me by the forearm.

I winced as his thin, bony fingers dug into the bruises the commander had left. My legs trembled, buckling, but he held me on my feet, eyes narrowed.

”Perhaps...I’m not as alone as you thought,” I whispered.

Stars sprung across my vision as pain erupted in my cheek. The force of the slap tore me from his grip, throwing me to the ground.

”Take her to the keep,” Evlon said, turning his back and striding toward the gate. ”I’ll crush her hope myself.”

”Yes, my Lord,” one of the other High Inquisitors said.

Blood dribbled down my jaw from a small cut where his nail had sliced my cheek open. My vision was dark and blurry, my left eye swelling as my face bruised.

”Why?” I whispered, sobbing from the pain. ”What did I do?”

Lord Evlon lit up with mana, bathing the entire courtyard in light. He raised his staff and eighth magic circles materialized in the sky. They brightened until they became impossible to look at, driving the shadows from every corner of the courtyard.

The inquisitor hauled me to my feet and jerked my hands behind my back. Sharp clicks accompanied the cold bite of steel around my wrists as he cuffed my hands together. The other inquisitor, a woman with short brown hair, picked up my dropped staff, examining the star with pursed lips.

”So much pain over something so beautiful,” she muttered.

”Move,” the first inquisitor said.

He shoved me roughly on the shoulder, sending me stumbling toward the keep. Soldiers sprinted by us by the dozen, faces lifted in awe at the eighth-circle spell spiraling overhead.

”Faster, unless you want to be caught out in the open when that thing goes off,” the inquisitor snarled. ”I don’t fancy your chances of survival.”

Shadows twirled through my vision, forming silhouettes that overlapped with the two high inquisitors. A phantom shriek rent my ears, dispersing the visionary glimpse, ringing in my ears long after the shadows had faded. A tingle pricked my soul, a presence descending through the massive magic circles toward me.

The inquisitor shoved me again, and this time, I used the momentum to stumble close to a supply tent, hoping for anything to use as cover. What I hadn’t planned on was the guy line that caught my foot, sending me tumbling to the ground. The cuffs bit into my wrists as I tried to catch myself, and I fell headlong into the canvas.

I sprawled over what felt like a stack of crates, groaning as a hard edge caught me in the stomach.

”Oww,” I mumbled.

”Idiot,” the male inquisitor said, glaring, folding his arms. ”How the hell did a clumsy slut like you kill Allana?”

His aura leaked a hint of killing intent, causing me to shiver. The other inquisitor bent over and grabbed me by the chain linking my cuffs together. She shifted her stance, preparing to jerk me to my feet, when a shriek pierced the air.

”What the–”

The male inquisitor’s hand never made it to his sword. A bolt of icy blue slammed into his back, sending him flying over our heads. He spun through the air, blood streaming between his lips, and crashed into the side of the keep some hundred yards away. The enchanted stone cratered beneath his weight, and cracks raced up and down the wall. His body lay twisted, embedded in the stone, for a single heartbeat, before he fell to the ground in a heap of twisted steel.

The shockwave from the attack broke against the female inquisitor’s back, tossing her into the tent beside me. She’d absorbed the worst of the concussive impact, but eddies of icy mana swept over me, numbing my entire body. I writhed as frost danced across my skin, whimpering as it drained the warmth from my bones.

The female inquisitor was on her feet in an instant, blade bared in her hand. Currents of sunlight swept off her soul, causing the frost to melt and my horns to itch. With what little rational thought I had left, I wormed into the tent and rolled behind some crates. My wrists ached from the cuffs, but there was nothing I could do other than curl up in a ball and pray I survived whatever came next.

The last thing I glimpsed before the canvas fell over my head was a brilliant mote of light streaking down from the heights of the keep toward the inquisitor—a small, bird-sized mote with wings and beautiful, crystalline feathers.

An explosion ripped through the tent, shredding most of the canvas. I shrieked as wind blades slashed across my back and arms, stinging like the crack of a whip. Blood oozed from the lacerations, trickling down my arms and wetting my hands.

I tugged against the metal cuffs, wincing as the sharp rims dug into my wrists. More beads of blood seeped between the metal and my skin, acting like lubrication. I yanked hard and screamed as the cuff tore through my hand, ripping layers of skin and muscle free. Black dots burst across my vision, but when they’d cleared, I clutched my hands to my chest, blood pouring from my mangled flesh. The weight of the cuffs pulled on my uninjured hand, but I couldn’t be bothered with it now.

”Come to me!” I gasped between sobs.

My staff reappeared in my uninjured hand. I wasted no time straining Adaptive Resistance, extending the aura to cover it. Once the channel was secure, I threaded my mana through the star, casting a Restoration spell.

Immediately, the pain eased, both in my hand and back. The flow of blood ceased, but the light ran out before the wounds could close. I pondered using another spell, but like before, I resolved to handle the pain and inconvenience. I had just enough for a sixth-circle spell, and I couldn’t waste it healing wounds when I didn’t have wards to protect me from incurring new ones.

”Mirror Lock!”

A shimmering, silver sphere appeared around the tent, shimmering transparent like a soap bubble. Immediately, the pressure and auras disappeared, and I gasped, taking my first full breath in what felt like ages. I’d survived the first engagement. Whether that lasted or not now depended on the demons who had answered my call.