The Forsaken Hero

The urgency in Fyren’s voice made me pause, and I took a few deep breaths. When the fog cleared, I replayed his question in my mind, answering it slowly.

”I haven’t been in a demon gate since Brithlite, before Soltair...” I took a shaky breath. ”I’ve been in Haven a lot, though. It’s changed a lot, from the mere concept of a realm to its current state, so it’s kind of like different gates.”

He studied me intently, eyes searching mine. I looked down, unable to hold his gaze.

”I...I never felt like this,” I whispered.

Fyren let out a sigh, relaxing his grip. ”You really are attributed, aren’t you?” he muttered. ”Damn it. This is going to be rough.”

He turned and walked toward the glowing lava tube that served as the entrance cavern’s exit.

”W-wait,” I said, scurrying after him. ”What do you mean? Is it because of my aura?”

He turned, waiting for me to catch up.

”Something like that. Demon gates are ideal environments for creatures of their attributes, but incredibly uncomfortable to those without. Mortals are supposed to have neutral souls and thus can adapt easily to any gate. You, however...” He gestured at my aura of starlight. ”You’ve somehow become attributed to fate. I was hoping you’d been in many gates before so we could pinpoint when it happened, but it seems that won’t be possible.”

”It must be when I gained my aura.”

”That was on the Day of Cinders, was it not?” he asked.

”I noticed it after I woke up. But I think it happened during the visions. I spent so long in the weave I almost lost myself. There were so many possibilities, so many bad endings...”

”Xiviyah,” he said sharply.

I flinched, snapping out of the memory. ”S-sorry.”

The lava tube led upward. Long grooves ran through the wall where different lava flows overlapped, flowing in an inconsistent spiral around the tunnel. The walls lost their cherry luster, dulling the higher we climbed. Infernal souls pinged against my senses in every direction. Unless they were hiding in the earth itself, there must be dozens of tunnels just like this one everywhere.

What was even more frightening were the numbers. My senses were strong, but I could feel the dimensional wall, meaning much of the gate was out of range. But in that small sphere, the demons were like stars in the night sky. Not hundreds, or even thousands, but tens of thousands.

”There are so many,” I said, clinging closer.

”This is an eighth-level gate. It holds a horde equal to that of all the gates to have opened before the descent. Its power alone, combined with its leader, could steamroll the majority of the northern continent.”

The tunnel opened into a lava chamber vast enough to hold a city. The ceiling was hundreds of yards above, the walls over a mile away. They were pocket-marked with countless tunnels identical to ours, leading into the depths of the gate. The ground was covered in glowing, amber-like stalactites. Lava dripped from the cavern roof and flowed throughout in molten rivers. Tens of thousands of demons of all power levels wandered the terrain, tens of thousands of all power levels, from the weakest scions to seventh-level evolved demons.

Fyren stopped at the edge of the cavern. He took a deep breath.

”I don’t know what you’ve seen, Xiviyah, but listen to me very closely. The Descent has not been proceeding as we hoped. We were counting on stable leadership of the demons, but Rash’alon has personally come to challenge our purpose.”

”I...is it that bad?”

”You may have noticed, but the Wanderer of Fallen Storms wasn’t exactly confident in your abilities.”

”Then why did she accept my mark?” I asked.

He shrugged. ”Wind demons are capricious, she especially so. But Incinderus, the lord of this gate, has far more invested in our mission than she. This gate is filled with his finest–every single demon he could spare. If you cannot convince him you are worthy of a chance, he will not hesitate to shatter this gate and return his forces to the demon realms.”

I froze, tail going rigid. ”M-Me? But I thought...But you were supposed to...”

He sighed. ”I didn’t wish to lay this on your shoulders, but you would not have come otherwise.”

”Why didn’t you just ask?”

He glanced down at me, blinking. After a moment, he chuckled.

”I suppose no one stays the same forever, but by the emperors, it’s hard for me to predict you. I apologize for deceiving you.”

”This has to do with Fate, too. Doesn’t it?”

He groaned, rubbing his head. ”Why can’t you be as dense about this as you are that demonkin? Don’t try to put things together that you shouldn’t. Also, you’re wrong.”

”Oh. Really?”

”...yes.”

I looked down, gripping my skirt. He was right, that was a ridiculous thought. What could a goddess gain by scheming with demons?

”I hope you’re ready,” he said. ”They’ve noticed us.”

My head whipped up. A massive worm-shaped demon had locked onto our position. It swam through the lava like a fish in water. The segments of its body were lined with sharp ridges that faced forward, flinging molten magma every time a coil left the lava flows. Dozens of scions clung to its rubbery carapace, and a few humanoid evolved demons rode atop its head.

”It’s not slowing,” I said. ”Can’t they sense your soul?”

He sighed and drew his sword. ”Seems they want a trial by fire. Stand back, I’ll handle this.”

The demons charged, picking up speed. When they were only a hundred feet away, Fyren lunged forward, disappearing in a burst of speed. I covered my head as the resulting shockwave swept over me, tugging my hair back in crimson ribbons.

Suddenly, a blinding red line appeared, extending from the floor to the roof of the massive cavern. Time slowed as it neatly bisected the sixth-level worm, seeming to inch through it. Fyren appeared opposite it, sword extending sideways. Lava dripped from the blade, the droplets hanging motionless in the air.

Time resumed with a deafening explosion. I cried out and covered my eyes as fire and light raged throughout the cavern, consuming hundreds of demons. Those farthest from the blast were hurled like ragdolls. The closer weren’t so lucky, reduced to white ash. Their screams rose above the roar, the heat overpowering their native immunity. Adaptive Resistance flared when the explosion’s shockwave swept over me, forcing me back a step.

I gasped for breath, the dry air blistering in my lungs. The fires were dazzling, blinding me long after they receded. Fyren’s presence was still on the opposite side of the cave. Infernal souls converged on him, only to vanish as soon as they got within a hundred feet.

The world came back into focus, but as I tried to regain my bearings, my soul leaped in my chest. Electric tingles raced to the tip of my horns and tail, my soul alight with the Oracle of Eternity. The feeling was suffocating. It was impossible to think, to feel, to do anything but react with pure, terror-driven instinct.

With a wordless cry, I summoned my staff, pouring all my mana into it. The air rang with a pure, ringing chime, like a crystal bell. The strange power Fate instilled within me at our last meeting thrummed to life. It was scorching hot, violently burrowing into the center of my soul, soaking up mana like a sponge.

The mists of starlight around me thickened, overtaking half the cavern in the blink of an eye. Something approached behind me, from the direction of the gate entrance. I turned just in time to see a blazing sword of pure white flame descending toward me, leaving a brilliant trail in the air behind it. Mana overflowed from the blade, setting my heart pounding. This was not an attack I could take.

I screamed and covered my head, squeezing my eyes shut. Blistering heat washed against my skin, pushing Adaptive Resistance to the brink. A seventh-level spell? Maybe an eighth? I couldn’t tell. I was too scared.

A shadow fell over me, blotting out the heat like a cloud in front of the sun. I waited for the sting, but nothing came. Peeking through my hands, I gasped, eyes widening. A golden, shimmering figure stood protectively over me, dressed in long, flowing robes that did little to hide a curvaceous body. A low neckline showed impressive cleavage, and her hips held a seductive sway. Her long hair billowed in the shockwave, free and unfettered, as long as she was tall.

A wide, circular wall of fate magic hovered above her hand, stopping the blade a few inches from her spread fingers. The sword was close to twenty feet long and composed purely of mana, possessing no form of its own. It ground against the barrier in a shower of sparks, but couldn’t make a single crack. After a moment, it detonated, filling the cavern with an explosion that dwarfed Fyren’s attack. The ward didn’t waver, seeming to suck the mana into it. The mana funneled directly into the remnant, for there could be no other, causing her to light up like the sun.

The woman turned, a slight smile gracing a flawless, oval-shaped face that carried the same allure as her perfect body. Her voice was soft and melodic, but carried immovable strength.

”Careful there. Don’t you know it’s not wise to play with fire? It wouldn’t be right for a sweet child like you to get burned.”