The Forsaken Hero

Selena alighted on the ship, staggering as her feet touched the deck. Scarcely seconds after the archon began his assault on every one of my friends, she’d fled toward us, finding refuge from the battle beneath my wards.

”Gods, that was exhausting,” she mumbled, slumping against the railing. ”I’ve never cast so many spells in my life. I felt like a first-level student all over again.”

I winced in sympathy, remembering my own struggles with magic in the beginning. How many times had I cast a waterball before I finally got it right? It had to have been hundreds, and that was off just a first-level soul.

”You did well,” I said, giving her a hug. ”You held on for so long.”

”I’m just glad you showed up when you did. But I’ll not pretend we were winning. That arbiter seems more concerned with enjoying himself on a mortal world than accomplishing his mission. If he took it seriously, I might not have lasted five minutes, even with Arboreal World supporting all of my spells.”

”Not surprising. They get out about as much as high-level demons. Naturally, he’d want some entertainment,” Fyren said, folding his arms.

”What news of the city? I’ve heard nothing since you raised that barrier. It seems to interfere with your nexus,” Selena said, sitting on a chair provided by a soldier.

I nodded, having noticed much the same limitation. Distance aside, it didn’t translate so well through such a powerful spell.

I spent a few seconds catching her up, mentioning the death of Lord Splitbark and Ellenwinter as well as the death toll in the city. When I got to how Aerion had remained behind to oversee the remainder of the battle, she groaned, pulling a wineskin from her spatial ring and drawing long and hard.

”I figured he wouldn’t come, but damn, we could have used him,” she muttered, wiping her lips.

”What do you think?” I asked, looking out the archon. He floated in the midst of the battle, arms folded as he observed my friends fighting against his summons.

”As he said, he’s just testing the waters,” Fyren said. ”Arbiters rarely see reason to lie. Kind of how you wouldn’t think twice about deceiving an insect. He’s probably just waiting for some word or signal that they found you. I wonder how long it will take him to realize it will never come.”

A small boom popped my ears as a particularly strong shockwave struck the Aegis, and Fable went flying by, chasing the disintegrating remnants of one of the arbiter’s summons. As it dissipated into nothingness, he wheeled away, lunging at a small pack hounding R’lissea and Borealis.

On the other side of the ship, Korra and Gayron hunted another two, working together with seamless cooperation. At times, they almost seemed to be dancing. His flames reflected off her water, twining together like different colored threads in the same tapestry.

A flash of light erupted from the center, the arbiter vanishing in a blur. Korra and Gayron threw themselves apart, a vicious arc of sunlight bisecting the air between them. The archon appeared at its end, sword still extended in a strike I hadn’t even been able to see.

”Yes, wonderful. Never have I seen a hero working alongside an infernal agent so closely. You two are marvelous,” the arbiter said, turning about unhurriedly to face them. ”Please, entertain me.”

He waved his hand, and his summons fled, leaving the three of them in a wide open space. Korra and Gayron exchanged a look before nodding as one.

”You’re on,” Korra said, ”But it’s no fun if you’re so much stronger than us. Why not fight us at our own level?”

The arbiter cocked his head. ”Two on one?”

”Korra, it’s not like it’s going to listen to you,” Gayron said, scowling at her. ”The only reason he’s winning is because he’s ninth-level.”

”You’re attempting to goad me, filthblood,” the archon said, a small smile tugging at its lips. ”And yet...that does sound amusing. Come, taste my blade.”

The arbiter’s wings flapped, and this time I could follow it--albeit barely. It streaked toward them, raising its sword in both hands. Korra barely had time to dive aside before it cleaved the air apart, leaving small black spatial fractures in its path.

Gayron lunged forward, sword aiming for the arbiter’s chest, but he flapped once, agilely avoiding the stab. Gayron kicked off air, barely avoiding the counter swipe, gasping as a windblade slammed into his chest. He fell back a few hundred feet, clutching at his chest, his hand coming away red.

But as the arbiter drew back his sword, Korra darted forward, landing a soft punch on his side. The arbiter’s eyes narrowed as it turned to face her, sword held steadily in both hands.

”Your power...it’s interesting, I’ve never seen its like,” the arbiter said. ”I see you’ve trained to fight powerful monsters. It would work against a dragon, perhaps, but me...?” He clenched his hand into a fist, and the dragon exploded into vapor. ”You’ll have to do better than that.”

”Damn it,” Korra cursed, falling back.

The arbiter’s eyes widened as a streak of fire took her place, blocked from his vision by her body. It washed across his chest, and he grunted, flapping out of its way. But as he looked for the source, a flicker of Gayron rose behind him, bringing his blade down on its head.

Somehow, the arbiter sensed something and twisted, catching the blow on its pauldron instead. The metal screeched, releasing a shockwave as it twisted beneath Gayron’s art. Fire clung to the arbiter as he retreated, burning down his arm.

”Sneaky bastards. I could have sworn I saw you fall,” the arbiter hissed, brushing the flame off with a burst of mana.

That was when the real Gayron appeared, flying up from below. Again, Korra attacked at the same time, summoning a water dragon as thick around as her torso and flinging it in the arbiter’s face. He easily avoided it, but again, Gayron caught him with his blade, landing another small, if meaningful, blow. This time, it was a cut on his arm, sending golden blood dripping into his gauntlet.

”Ah, I see now,” the arbiter said, turning around, surveying the three of them. ”Multiple bodies, yet the same soul. I wonder how you’ll handle this?”

The arbiter raised his hand and began chanting an eighth-circle spell. It emanated a fearsome aura, and yet...eighth-circle?

”Quickly, attack!” I cried in the Nexus.

Gayron hesitated, caught in the midst of mustering mana for a defensive art, but Korra trusted me blindly, abandoning any attempt at defense and diving forward. The arbiter’s eyes widened in surprise as she slammed into him, her fist connecting squarely with his jaw. His chant fumbled as he tumbled through the air, a trickle of blood oozing from a split lip. Ribbons of mana curled around him like serpents.

But as he opened his mouth to resume, Korra’s art detonated. The strands of water snapped against him like razor wire, binding his movements and slicing deep into his flesh. Rivulets of golden ichor spurted from the wounds, and the arbiter cried out, losing control of his spell. The backlash was a torrent of discordant mana, causing him to cough blood.

It happened so quickly that even now, Gayron still hadn’t reacted, staring open-mouthed as Korra pressed her advantage, striking the arbiter over and over.

”Bah, you’re no fun,” The arbiter spat a glob of blood, knocking Korra back with a wave of his wings. He spiralled away from her, stabilizing his soul again. ”But your battle sense is incredible. That you knew you could interrupt my spell before it landed...simply remarkable. Were you devout and obedient, I wouldn’t mind looking after your training while I dwell in this realm. You had so much potential.”

”Sorry, but I already tried joining the inquisitors once. Didn’t go so well, save it brought me to that which truly mattered,” she retorted.

”Inquisitors. Why my god loves them so I’ll never understand. Now, shall we continue? Or would you rather I end this and play with your allies instead?”

Korra gritted her teeth and shared a look with Gayron. Together, they attacked again.

”This can’t continue,” I whispered, holding a hand clasped to my chest.

Fyren nodded. ”Indeed. It won’t be long before their mana’s expended. If you’re going to try something, Life Mage, best do it before our heroes and apostles begin dropping from the sky.”

”Fine,” Selena muttered, gathering her bearings. She snapped her fingers, sending her wineskin back to her spatial ring, and summoned her staff. She glanced to the side, where Victor stood on the railing, hands clenched at his sides. He alone had remained on the ship with us. ”Not coming?”

”Can’t fly,” he muttered, glaring at the skies.

”Hmph, what a sorry excuse for cowardice. Even that wolf of Xiviyah’s borrows wings from the Life hero. Come, join me. I’ll need your strength for this,” she replied, extending her hand.

Victor gave me a tentative look before taking her hand. Selena’s aura flowed over him, her lips moving as she whispered a spell. Vibrant green wings sprouted from Victor’s back, causing his eyes to widen. They spread, mimicking Selena’s wings, and he wobbled into the air after her.

”I don’t know about this,” he said, a note of panic in his voice.

Selena grinned. ”You’re doing fine. Actually, you’re not. The spell’s coded to me, so it’ll take you where I go. Just enjoy the ride, and try not to die. It’s going to be harder to kill this thing without you.”