The Forsaken Hero

Gathrin held up my hand, forestalling my apology. ”If you try to seek forgiveness from every one of us, you’ll be here all day. If you truly feel the need, you can convey your feelings into Haven, like you would Soul Speak.”

”Ah, right!” I took a breath, then did as he asked, being sure not to push my feelings into the realm too strongly. They’d berated me for that last time I’d tried that, after all. One apology at a time.

A light whoosh sounded behind me, and I turned to welcome Bethiv in. It wasn’t his first time, for he’d spent many long days planning within the realm of our campaigns, but he stared around with wide-eyed appreciation.

”It’s grown,” he said quietly. He addressed Gathrin louder. ”Lord Gathrin, if I remember correctly. It seems we’ll be imposing on you and yours for a while.”

He held out his arm, and Gathrin floated down until his feet were an inch above the ground. He still towered a full head over Bethiv, but his smile was welcoming as he clasped his arm.

”Friends of the Oracle are always welcome in this sacred place. Come and be welcome.”

The two men held their grip for a second, neither looking away until, as one, they let go, exchanging nods. I looked between them, my tail twisting in my hands, feeling that something important had passed between them, but not quite sure of what.

”Jasrin, take their advance party to the keep. I’ll await the arrival of their main host,” Gathrin said. ”Oh, and Haven, please inform Fate of their arrival.”

Haven nodded, though I expected it was already done.

”Would you care to accompany us, Oracle?” Jasrin asked, giving me a cock-eyed smile.

With no reason to refuse, I followed the capricious ranger. Avrass fell alongside us, waving to a few remnants as they gathered to greet us.

”You know them?” I asked.

He shrugged. ”A few, if not by name. Many were curious about us when we stayed here.”

”They didn’t...you know...”

He glanced at me, an amused smile tugging at his lips. ”I’m afraid not. Whatever do you mean?”

I blushed, and Jasrin barked out a laugh, turning about to face us, floating backwards as we crossed the Heart of Haven.

”They were the first real visitors in millennia,” he said, still chuckling. ”After you, of course. But you don’t count. You belong here as much as any of us.”

”I...thank you.” I lowered my head, a little swish taking my tail.

Jasrin asked them all sorts of questions that I was just as eager to hear the answers to, from their roles in the Risen invasion to which soldiers he would have to keep an eye on. But their smiles were infectious, and soon, the shadows of my heart were forgotten.

Our path took us deep into Haven, past any of the archipelagos I’d explored with Luke. Beauty filled the islands. Thick pine forests, roaring waterfalls, secluded meadows, and so much more. One island especially called to me, though we passed it by at a distance. A gentle hill rose on one side, the soft green grass fading into dunes of white sand. Ocean waves broke across the beach, the sea pouring over nearly three-quarters of the island. It was as endless as the waterfalls, a crescent of water descending into the abyss below. I made a note to visit it with Korra. I could already see her grin.

”Here we are,” Jasrin said as we crossed a particularly wide and long bridge, coming up to a large mountainous island.

I gaped up at the soaring peaks, estimating they rose at least a mile into Haven’s starry skies. The island itself had to be two or three times that wide, dwarfing the city island near the Heart of Haven. The mountains were covered in light forests, and somehow dusted with snow at their tops, and I shivered at the cool breeze flowing down from the valleys above. Several small streams emerged from the trees, flowing over the island rim.

A stone watchtower rose from a hill by the bridge, worn and weathered, but standing tall. A sentry to our coming.

As we passed it, following a sunken cobblestone path, we came across more fortifications, seemingly swallowed by the island itself.

”How old are these? I’ve never seen their like,” Avrass asked, studying a low wall that had fallen into a ravine. ”Those parapets...they’re wider than any bow would need.”

”Because they were never meant for people your size,” Jasrin answered. ”It was rare we ever fought in such diminutive form. Not when we carried our Goddess’ honor.”

”This was your fortress?” I asked.

Jasrin flashed me a grin. ”Home of the Fatesworn. But these are just the outskirts. Wait till you see the keep.”

More questions flashed through my mind, but I let them go. The path was steep and rugged in places, and I was already panting. The others hadn’t appeared to notice, but I hadn’t missed the rather deliberate pace of the set, keeping me in their midst. I was enough of a burden already. No sense wasting my breath.

It seemed that we hiked for hours, and climbed twice as much in altitude as I remembered the island having, before we finally crested a ridge. I had to stop and rest. My breath misted the air, frost dusting the trees. But despite that, my forehead beaded with sweat, and I panted heavily, my throat raw with the chill.

”You sure you don’t want Haven to take you? He could carry you with the wind,” Jasrin said, his forehead creased with worry.

I shook my head, setting my tail in determination. ”I want to walk it with everyone.”

Jasrin raised an eyebrow, peering over my shoulder. I turned and followed his gaze, gasping reflexively. The entire expanse of Haven opened up behind us, framed by the mountains we had climbed. A long, silver column of marching soldiers traced the floating skybridge between this island and the one previous, disappearing into the forests in the foothills. The faint rasp of steel and muttered curses reached my sharp ears, drifting on the winds from below. Bethiv had almost caught up to us.

But we had made it. Turning, invigorated by the sight, I beheld what lay before us. The mountain peaks formed a massive valley ahead. Their slopes were far too steep and rocky to climb, the dusting of frost glittering in the starlight. The only entrance to the valley lay directly before us, but it was spanned by a massive wall almost three hundred feet tall. The structure was crowned by towers armed with balistae and turrets, and bore a fifty-foot portcullis in the center. Torn banners with golden fabric and a star-shaped sigil in the center hung on either side of it.

The gates were open, the portcullis raised, a window into the valley beyond. But my eyes were riveted to the wall, and my head tilted back as we approached it, my lips silently agape. Never had I seen such an imposing structure. Never mind its height, the wall was over fifty feet thick, the gates an entrance to a tunnel rather than a door.

I cringed as our footsteps echoed loudly in the gloom. The air felt stale, the massive tunnel constricting. Not even the Divine Throne had boasted such a wall. Why would you ever need defenses like this? Who could possibly attack you in a Divine Realm?

”Behold,” Jasrin said, gesturing grandly with both hands as we finally breached the other side.

There was nothing that could be more impressive than the gate. That was what I thought. That’s where I was wrong.

The valley hosted a city in and of itself. It had to be almost a mile across, meaning all of our hiking hadn’t even taken us over half the island. Fields and orchards sprawled across the outside, winding with small streams issued from fountain shrines scattered throughout. Five-story stone barracks were built into the mountain cliffs themselves, all bearing the banners of the Fatesworn. Other fortified structures formed an inner region, with a small keep rising against the far cliffs.

The architecture of the keep was more than practical, a semicircle that flowed directly into the cliffs. The walls curved around an inner courtyard but were far from solid. They were more like a reed basket, formed of dozens of individual arms that spiraled up, shaping the keep into a sphere. The lattice widened, the columns narrowing, as they neared the top, revealing a massive statue of Fate within, pointing the Final Star skyward, at the open top of the sphere.

The stonework of the walls flowed and was entirely seamless, as if molded from a single slab of clay. Its design was reminiscent of a spell, the ribbons of rock, most over twenty feet thick, weaving together like threads of mana. Its stone glittered with embedded stars, shining like the sky itself. The sheer scale was staggering, smaller than the Divine Throne but no less impressive.

”Why...why isn’t the city like this?” was all I could think to ask.

Jasrin’s grin widened as he basked in our awe. ”Fate always liked things simple. But, given eternity, we remnants had a few designs. This was our greatest. We called it Starfall Keep, and once, it guarded the entrance of Fate’s Divine Realm.” His smile wavered, turning wistful. ”It’s not much anymore, but if you’ll have it, it’s home.”