The Forsaken Hero

Some days after the great attunement, I returned to Haven, rested with my mana fully recovered. There was so much I had to do, and so little time to do it. My visions over the last few days had intensified, taking me in the waking hours as well as when I slept. With each one, I grew more anxious, more certain of the path that lay ahead. The window for preparation was closing. Luke was coming back.

”You’re finally ready to resume your training?” Emlica asked as I entered the library.

I gave a small, hesitant curtsy. ”I’m sorry, I’ve had other matters to attend to.”

None is as important as breaking into the ninth level. Unless you attain it, you shall surely perish at the hands of one of Enusia’s champions,” she grumbled, ”But you’ve wasted enough time already, a scolding would only take more. Come, there are many spells for you to learn.”

”Many?” I asked, hurrying after her.

She glanced at me over her shoulder. ”Did you think a single eighth-circle spell was going to be enough to bring you to ninth-level? Besides, I thought you would have been curious to show me what you gained from attuning with those demon lords.”

”Zephyriss wasn’t very helpful,” I said, ”She just uses magic arts and techniques.”

”That’s true,” she mused, ”Your body couldn’t handle more than a second-level art without overloading from the mana load. Even if you didn’t spontaneously combust, it would likely tear your muscles from your bones.”

I shivered, hugging myself as we stopped in the inner chambers. Arts were incredibly simple, and I could probably use any of them with a little practice, but they would be forever out of reach. Even a simple sixth-level flying art, like the one Zephyriss learned upon evolving, would be out of reach. I let out a wistful sigh, staring out the window at the starry vistas of Haven. The breeze up there must be wonderful, unchained by the islands, flowing free and–

”Gah,” I muttered, rubbing my horn. What was I doing, musing about flying? I hated flying. I did!

”Now that fire demon, on the other hand,” Emlica said, snapping me back. ”I’m not sure there’s a remnant in Haven who, at their peak, matched his raw mana.”

I stared at her, my lips parting silently. Did she just...compliment

Incinderus? And on the topic of magic?”Don’t look at me like that. I only said his mana is impressive, not that he can do anything useful with it. No mortal or being ascended from one could possibly hope to match the capacity of a demon at the peak of its power. But, again, all demons care about is blowing stuff up. They never do anything truly interesting,” she said, rolling her eyes.

”They live in perpetual conflict. Those kinds of spells serve them the best.”

She snorted. ”No need to get defensive, though I suppose that’s expected, given you just entangled with him.”

”I’m not defensive,” I mumbled, looking down. ”It’s just...he worked really hard.”

”And I’m sure all that work will be incredibly useful to you. Think of all those combat spells you’re going to be able to cast now.”

Her bitterness startled me, and I gripped my tail, holding it tightly in both hands. ”That’s not what...Emlica...?”

I trailed off as I looked at her, tilting my head. She’d busied herself at a shelf, brusquely shoving books aside. First a compliment, and now this? Was she...jealous?

It was a ridiculous thought, but...I took a breath, letting my tail go, unable to help a small smile.”You’re right. Most of his magic won’t be very useful to me. Not like the spells we’ve been working on.”

”Hmph, so long as you know that,” she said with a stiff nod. Then, taking a book down, said, ”Now, enough wasting words. Show me what is useful.”

She lifted the book and let it go, but it floated on its own, opening midway to a blank page. I let out an inward groan at seeing it, rubbing my horn. That she was taking notes meant I wasn’t going to get away with simply showing her some spells.

”Quickly, child, I haven’t got all day.”

Straightening, I summoned my staff and began to cast, crafting a relatively simple sixth-circle spell. But unlike nearly every one of my spells, the forming circles were a deep brown color, blended with earth mana. When it resolved, the magic fell upon me, and I gasped, suddenly aware of the library. Faint, almost imperceptible pulses of mana traveled from my soul down my body, radiating from my feet across the chamber.

The waves of earth mana soaked into the library’s stone walls, traveling several hundred feet before rebounding and returning to me. They brought with them sensory input for a sense my body didn’t truly possess, losing much of the detail as my mind automatically processed it through the familiar lenses of sight, touch, and smell. Just as I finished comprehending the first wave of information, the spell emitted another pulse, and the process began again, building a map of the entire library in my mind, updated with every beat of my heart.

”Hmph, impressive,” Emlica said as the spell completed. ”Though, from what I can sense, this particular instance has a very limited range, only about a quarter of a mile. And I can’t imagine it would be very effective even if the range were boosted. It would be too mentally taxing, and I’d already be surprised if you could sustain this for more than an hour or so.”

While she spoke, glowing runes scrawled across the notebook page. From the sheer volume, she recorded far more than she spoke.

”That’s true,” I admitted, rubbing my horn. I didn’t focus on anything in particular, holding only a faint awareness of the library, but it was easy to see how quickly I’d end up with a headache. I dismissed the spell before that could happen.

As the final pulse faded, the strange new sense vanished, causing my chest to tighten. I looked around, my tail twitching, as the walls grew opaque again. The library suddenly felt...small, restricting. It was like walking out of a hallway into a dark room, with only the vaguest idea of where the furniture was, and every chance of bumping into it.

The feeling of blindness and vulnerability faded quickly, and I laid a hand on my chest, breathing lightly. Emlica wore a soft frown, her notebook filling with more thoughts.

”Continue,” she said once she finished writing.

I did, casting several more spells, many of the demons’ own inventions. Of them, only a few were actually useful in my current state, and together, we narrowed down to three I would study and practice with Emlica.

Of the dozens of spells drifting in my memories, only a few of them were practical, given my current situation. Over the next few hours, and with Emlica’s help, I narrowed them down, ending up with three to practice over the next few days.

The first was Ring of Sorcery, a seventh-circle spell that inscribed a magic circle upon a flat surface. The spell worked as an aid to anyone casting within, increasing concentration, stabilizing runes and circles, and reducing the backlash of failed spells. Because it focused on the caster alone, its effect was the same regardless of the strength of the spell being cast, making it useful for any level.

The second was a sixth-circle fire spell called Pyreforge. It used very little mana, and with only a little practice, I got the cast time down to just a second. Its only purpose was purifying mana, burning out impurities, and converting all attributes to fire mana. The effect it had on Haven’s native was spectacular, as countless stars combusted, lighting up the chamber like blazing candles. It was actually hot enough that I shied away, my wards flaring faintly.

And lastly, there was Orendaclysm, named in the tongue of a dead world. It was a relatively simple seventh-circle spell that dispersed magical power gathered in physical objects, be it enchanted weapons or strengthened muscles. I was most hesitant to cast this one, fearing it might qualify as combat magic, but after some persuasion on Emilca’s part, I gave in. Fortunately, the curse seemed to view it in the same vein as Dispel Magic, letting me cast without issue.

When the last rune faded, Emlica’s book shut with a snap. ”Excellent,” she said, nodding with satisfaction. ”It seems I didn’t give that demon enough credit. Some of his spells weren’t half bad. But, not to say they were good.”

She waved her hand, and a book rose off her desk, flying over to me. I caught it, smoothing my hand over the cover, tracing the title.

”Temporal Stasis?” I read aloud, tilting my head. ”What’s this?”

”Your next eighth-level spell. This one’s a fair bit harder than Spatial Rift.”

”Does that mean you’re going to let me read it first?” I asked, my tail swishing hopefully.

She gave me a flat look, and I sighed, opening the tome. Like before, it was written in a cohesive, fluid train without notes or instructions. Looking at her once more, I found her unmoved. Sighing again, I began to cast.