The Forsaken Hero

The Arbiter looked around, its lips pursed in a slight frown. But after a second, its wings spread wide, and it rose into the sky. After ascending to the tops of the towers, it vanished, drawing a brilliant white line across the sky. A sonic boom followed in its wake, shaking the cathedral. The weaker guards screamed in pain, clutching their heads as blood trickled from their mouths and ears.

I turned, the vision breaking apart as I willed myself after it. But when the scene stitched itself back together, I stood not at the Verdant Grove, but another walled courtyard. This one I recognized instantly: the place where I had shared my first dance with Luke.

But there was no festivity now, at the Ellenwinter Estate. Soldiers hurried past, ducking their heads as shockwaves rolled over the city. The clash of steel and the screams of wounded and dying rent the air. Cloth stretchers and makeshift medical tents were set up across the sprawling gardens and meadows, filled with soldiers wrapped in linens. Healers staggered among them, their souls withered from overuse, tending to the worst among the fallen. Skyships floated on the horizon, sending lances of brilliant white light into the city below. Wherever one struck, pillars of smoke and debris rose, obliterating entire markets and neighborhoods.

I stared at the scene, struggling to rationalize the horrors of what I was looking at. Had the battle spread from the cathedral? But it was miles away! And what of the skyships? The entire city must have gone mad!

Unable to stomach the screams and carnage, I shifted away, reappearing at another manor I’d visited with Elise. I’d forgotten the name, but it didn’t matter. It was exactly the same, save that this time, I could see who the house guards were fighting. Soldiers and adventurers, wearing the crimson thread. These lacked the black cloaks of the cathedral and the power advantage, but they fought with fervor, throwing themselves at enemies that far outmatched them. As one fell, another took their place, buying every inch in blood.

As I moved from manor to manor, from market to market, searching through every place I could remember visiting, it was the same. Battle raged across the streets, manors, and markets. Trails of smoke and flame rose into the sky from a hundred fires, and thousands of corpses of both soldiers and civilians littered the streets. The gutters literally ran with blood.

The arbiter’s aura writhed above the city, like the sky itself was on fire. It descended over all, somehow tied to those who fought against the crimson thread. It wasn’t until my seventh glimpse of the war that I realized how. Every guard defending a house, every Ellenwinter soldier attacking a garrison keep, and every mercenary defending Splitbark shops and stalls wore an amulet. It was a sliver of wood, metal, or glass shaped like a Shard of Omniscience and barely the size of my finger, fastened around their neck like a talisman. They glowed faintly, alive with the power of the arbiter. It enhanced their movements, their techniques, and their spells, giving them an advantage over the red threads.

At last, I wound up in the Verdant Grove, the seat of Sylvarus’s power. The massive trees that formed the seat of Sylvarus’ powers were broken, scorched, and blackened to withered husks. Thousands of slain elves, wearing crimson threads and not, lay in heaps around the grounds. Several skyships floated overhead, their weapons charged and aimed within the tree. The smoldering wreckage of another one lay strewn about a nearby estate where it had crash-landed atop a manor.

My heart leaped in my throat as the vision moved on its own, sweeping me within the depths of the ruined grove. There was the arbiter, floating a dozen feet above a circle of ash a hundred feet wide, disintegrated from the inside of the tree itself. And in the middle, on their knees, was me. My head was lowered, my tail limp. My white, heartland dress was in tatters, soaked with blood from a dozen shallow cuts. Standing above me, a cruel grin on his face, was Victor. He held a glowing spear, one of his justice armaments, at my throat, the tip red with my blood. His soul blazed with power, reaching the upper stages of the seventh level.

”I saved you,” my future self whispered, looking up with tears in the corner of her eyes. ”How could you do this? How could you kill her?”

”I’ve done what justice demands,” he answered coldly.

My head fell. ”And yet you smiled. How could you enjoy that? I thought you were...were...”

His face tightened, and he glanced up at the archon. The gleaming immortal nodded once, and Victor’s grip on his spear tightened. With no hesitation, he jabbed forward.

I screamed, clutching at my throat, as the vision shattered. I could taste the blood, feel the touch of steel sliding through my flesh. Not a spear, but a dagger. A wound I’d taken long ago, yet never managed to forget.

The darkness retreated, but I couldn’t shake the memory. My throat closed, my heart beating painfully within my chest. Strong hands encircled me, and I collapsed against a muscled chest, tears gathering in the corners of my eyes.

”Shhhh, I’ve got you,” Luke’s voice came, soft and gentle.

Slowly, surrounded by his warmth and grounded by his familiar scent, I relaxed, opening my eyes and blinking up at the stars of Haven. Luke took my hand, gently pulling it away from my throat and gripping it firmly. My breath hitched, and I coughed, my body convinced breathing was impossible. I collapsed against Luke with the realization, somehow managing to hold back tears.

”What happened? What did you see?” he asked when I’d calmed enough to take a few shallow breaths.

”I...Luke...?” I whispered, looking up at him.

He smoothed my hair out of my face, his fingertips brushing the base of my horn. ”I’m here. You’re safe.”

”Safe...?” I looked past him, the stars coming into focus. Familiar stars. Haven’s stars. The tension drained away, leaving me feeling exhausted.

”You can’t go repeating everything I’m saying, or we’re not going to get anywhere,” he said, giving me a faint smile.

That did more than anything. My mind cleared, and I took a deep breath, regaining my composure. That was hard, given that he held me sideways in his lap, my legs draped over his thighs. One of his hands held my head to his chest, the other rested on my his, supporting my back with the crook of his arm. For some reason, my tail had curled around his waist. But after what I’d seen, I couldn’t muster the slightest twitch of embarrassment.

”I’m alright,” I whispered, brushing a tear from the corner of my eye. It was with no small amount of pride that I realized I hadn’t actually cried. Then again, maybe that was a bad thing. I didn’t want to accept the senseless violence I’d seen, or the traumatic sensation of having my throat slit.

”So what happened? One of the remnants informed me you were here, having a vision. Did you see what you wanted?” he asked.

”Arantius?”

”Yeah, that’s the one. But you’re changing the subject.”

”Sorry, I just...it’s hard to focus. It’s all so...” I trailed off, shrugging against his chest. It took me a few seconds to put everything together and find the words I was looking for. ”I saw what’s coming. I have to speak to Aerion.”

”Aerion? Why?”

”The Crimson Dawn. They can’t...no, maybe they can. But then we’ll...” I groaned, rubbing my horn. ”It’s so complicated, and I don’t know half of it. But what I do know is that whatever is going to happen, can’t happen. An arbiter’s coming, Luke. An immortal.”

He stiffened, his fingers pressing into my flesh. I winced, and he quickly relaxed, rubbing my shoulder instead.

”Sorry. But an Archon? Are you sure?”

”Certain. It’s strong, close to the peak of ninth...Luke? Why are you smiling?’

He coughed, wiping the grin away. ”It’s nothing. It’s just...this is the first time I’ll have a chance to face a true immortal. Killing priests and inquisitors is fine, but...if I kill it, will it make a difference to whichever bastard god sent it?”

I shook my head. ”They’re like demons, and will just be sent back to their god’s divine kingdom. But that’s not the point here! You can’t fight it. It’s too strong.”

”I haven’t conquered half the world to back down because there’s someone stronger than me. This is why I’ve been gathering power. What’s the point of it all if I can’t even fight it?”

”Think of Fyren, Luke. Or the remnants. That’s what an archon is. You can’t just fight it!”

He didn’t respond, for the longest time, seeming to stare into nothingness. I watched him, anxiously gripping his shirt, watching his face for the slightest change.

Finally, he sighed and shook his head. ”Fine, but you’d better tell me this whole vision of yours. If an arbiter’s coming, there must be a reason. If we find that, perhaps we can use it to hurt the gods regardless.”

”Oh, Luke...” I smiled, despite myself, and nuzzled his chest with my cheek. ”You don’t have to find it. You’re already holding it.”