The Forsaken Hero

The cavern was the same as the maze, with shadowy walls and an endless void for the floor and ceiling. It was massive, easily a half-mile across, and filled with curse demons of all shapes and sizes. Evla sat huddled in the middle, hands pushed over her head, maintaining a purple hemispheric barrier.

Demons thronged around her, pressing in from all sides. Most through curses or elemental spells at her, while a few wielded shadowy swords and spears. One, a colossal fifty-foot-tall dragon creature, attacked with scythe-like claws longer than I was tall.

Evla’s barrier thrummed with every attack, releasing pulses of mana that repelled the attacks like magnets with their poles misaligned. It didn’t seem effective against the curses, rapidly losing strength as they sapped at its runic formation.

A ripple passed through the swarming demons as we appeared. The draconic curse demon drew into the air, wheeling about to face us. Dozens of scions and humanoid evolved demons followed in its wake, assessing us with smoldering red eyes.

”Xiviyah, there are too many of them. Protect your soul!” R’lissea cried, beginning the spell to summon her Life Dragon.

Her words shocked me into action. I released my hold on Adaptive Resistance, letting it flow back over my soul. I took a short, relieved breath as the curse’s tendrils burned out my soul. I’d lost almost a third of my mana and perhaps half of my physical strength to them.

”Come to me!” I cried.

My staff exploded with light. Golden mist flowed out of my soul, pushing back against the curses and swallowing half the room. The demons hissed and recoiled from the foreign power, losing some of their strength as the curses receded.

A glowing figure took shape amongst the stars, a young, childlike remnant with hair that flowed as if tugged by the breeze. She wore a revealing dress made of flowers and leaves, her hair tucked behind her pointed elven ears.

The remnant opened her eyes, blinking as she looked around the room. Her gaze fell on Fable, and she brightened. She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and ruffling his fur.

”Why didn’t you come visit me? It’s been so long!” she cried.

Fable whined, his tail wagging back and forth. I gaped at the two, then at the demons as they circled us slowly, testing my aura. They recoiled at contact, but probed deeper with every passing second.

I looked back at Villie. She’d pulled away from Fable and was now glaring at me with a childish pout. I retreated a step, taken aback. Shouldn’t she be glaring at the demons?

”Xiviyaaaah, I thought I told you to summon me first! Why didn’t you call?”

”I-I’m sorry, I just...” I bit my lip.

”You don’t remember, do you.”

I shook my head, and she puffed out her cheeks.

”Villie. My name’s Villie. And you were supposed to summon me first!”

The draconic curse demon roared, releasing a blast of curse magic. The curse invaded my aura, darkening a swath of stars. I flinched as it neared us, but it dispersed a few feet away. The other demons under its command charged forward like a pack of rabid dogs, shrieking and snarling as they tore into the breach created by the attack.

Villie rounded on the demons, hands still on her hips. ”Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something? I’m scolding her!”

The remnant waved her hand, and a chunk of mana left me. Six magic circles materialized beneath the lead demons. Before they could spring out of the way, they exploded in a puff of brown dust. The air thickened as it spread, smelling sweet like fragrance. Their curse mana ate at it, but not before it powdered the demons, covering their shadows as if it were fabric.

A cluster of scions, no more than second-level, slowed, staggering like they were drunk. Their movements turned sharp and jerky, their eyes losing their malevolent glow. An evolved demon shaped like a four-legged snake tried to rush through them, but one of their shadowy tendrils lashed out, catching at its foot. The evolved demon snapped at it, carving gouges through its chest with dagger-like teeth. The scion fell to the ground with a thump, eerily silent.

”What did you do to them?” R’lissea asked in a whisper.

As the evolved demon tore the shadowy tendrils from its leg, the other scions attacked it, biting and clawing. Its fourth-level soul vanished into the pack of scions, its screams dulling as it, too, began taking on powder.

”But why are they attacking each other? Is that... pollen?” R’lissea asked.

Villie shrugged. ”It’s their own fault. They should learn to play with themselves instead of intruding on us like that. They should have waited until I finished scolding Xiviyah.”

”About that,” I broke in, gripping my skirt. ”I’m sorry. I really am. I couldn’t control it, and it called Invika–”

”You remember her name,” Villie said with another pout.

”She was...impressive,” I admitted.

Villie folded her arms, puffing out her chest. ”Well, I’m impressive, too. Just watch.”

R’lissea leaned in, eyes dancing. ”Please, you’re a life mage, too. Can you show me how you fight?”

Villie preened. ”I’m the strongest life mage among the others, you know. I can heal anything.”

”...I need to fight.” R’lissea looked crestfallen, but she quickly brightened. ”Like what you did before. Are you controlling them?”

”Something like that. But you’re not ready for that kind of magic.”

”It was only a sixth-circle spell,” she protested.

Villie waggled her finger. ”Circles, smirkles, who cares about that? The simplest spell I know is a ninth circle, while the most complex is only a fourth. It’s all about the spell, little elf.”

Little? I glanced between the two, barely suppressing a smile. R’lissea was at least a foot taller than the child-like remnant.

”Let’s try something a little more fun,” Villie said. She turned to Fable, and another chunk of my mana vanished into a spell. This one was fourth-level.

”Angry Teeth!” she cried.

Fable jumped back, staring at his claws as they began to glow green. His teeth also lit up, taking on a sheath of translucent mana. The mana took on form, extending their shape into curved, serrated blades. Were we not caught in a curse gate surrounded by demons, I might have giggled. He looked comical, almost, like a saber-tooth cat with overgrown nails.

Fable flexed his claws, incredulously examining the translucent extensions. For some reason, he seemed flustered, treading carefully as if he might trip. The tips of the claws slid into the void, slicing it apart like paper, leaving green ribbons of light behind.

”Go, wolf! Get them!” Villie cheered.

I looked away, this time unable to help a smile. Fable gave me a reproachful look.

The pack of demons drawn to us had fallen into complete disarray. Many had fallen, slain by their own hands, while the remainder were caught in the lethargy of the pollen. The dragon roared and shrieked, barking commands that would never be followed. IT stayed outside the starlight, blasting curses into it, but never actually entering.

Fable kicked off the ground, lunging toward it. The dragon was only seventh-level, but it matched his speed. Its claws, longer than Fable’s own, came down hard. Fable darted aside, but tripped over the glowing nails of his hind legs, suffering a shallow laceration on his shoulder. The demon left a curse behind in the wound, but it evaporated into Adaptive Resistance.

The wolf rolled to his feet, awkwardly positioning each so he didn’t cut himself. When the dragon swooped down again, he lashed out with how front paws, keeping the back firmly planted.

The curse demon, ten times his size, pressed down with all its bulk. But when their claws met, it was the demon who was battered to the ground. Long black spikes flew into the wall, burying themselves halfway. I stared, stunned, as I realized they weren’t an attack, but the demon’s claws themselves, sheared from its shadowy flesh by Villie’s extensions.

”Sharp,” R’lissea muttered.

Fable jumped atop the downed demon, snapping at its throat. Unfortunately, his teeth were much too long for him to bite down, so he settled for using them like swords. The translucent green bit into the demon’s throat, tearing it into three sections. It screamed and threw Fable off, thrashing as it began disintegrating into shadows.

Villie frowned, tapping her finger on her elbow as she stared at the dying demon. ”Why is it so weak? It’s a dragon!”

”Er, Fable’s eighth-level,” I said, rubbing my horn. ”The, um, claws weren’t even necessary.”

Her eyes widened, and she turned to regard the wolf. ”What? Why didn’t anyone tell me! That’s not fair at all!” She shook her head. ”No, no, we can’t have that. Not at all. Come here, Fable. We have to do something about this.”

I bit my lip, holding back a protest. We were in a time crunch here, and...well, maybe it wasn’t that bad anymore. The seventh-level demon dying had taken a lot of pressure off Evla’s spell. Given her mana, she’d probably be fine for another minute. If we humored the remnant a bit, she might teach R’lissea something useful.

Fable reluctantly padded over. Villie clapped her hands, summoning a staff of twisted vines and old oak.

”Okay, I have just the spell.”