The Forsaken Hero

Ronin’s face blackened at R’lissea’s words, and his grip on his sword tightened. ”You’ll regret choosing her. After everything we went through together, after everything we were...I won’t allow it.”

His aura exploded, taking in all of his rage and the full power of Blood Reckoning. It stirred a hurricane across the mountain range, tugging at my hair and Borealis’s feathers. Even the Primal Guardian seemed to sway, staggering as the earth quivered and shifted beneath its great bulk.

Slowly, his power condensed, gathering on the edge of his sword. It formed a sliver of crimson so intense it dyed the entire world red, filling the night with blood. His eyes glowed the same color, narrowed to ruthless slits.

R’lissea’s shoulders sagged, sorrow filling her gaze. But as Ronin took a step toward her, the earth shivering beneath him, she raised her staff, her lips set in a firm line. A single magic circle blossomed at the tip of her staff.

”Survive this,” she whispered, then cried, ”Verdant Confluence!”

The Primal Guardian, Life Dragons, and Shambling Guardians shattered, crumbling on the spot. The world shook as billions of tons of earth, stone, and forest cascaded to the ground, forming literal mountains where they’d once been lifted away. All of that force, all of their power, extricated from across the settling earth, converging on the tip of R’lissea’s staff, forming a sphere of life mana so pure it matched the intensity of Ronin’s sword. Twin peaks of power, verdant green against blood red. Life against War.

They stared at each other for a single, endless moment. Then, Ronin let out a roar, lunging forward, his sword slashing through the air. On the wings of his power, he flew through the air, moving faster than I could react. But not R’lissea.

She leveled her staff, her face grim and resolved. Without a moment of hesitation, she fired, firing a solid beam of light. It exploded from the tip of her staff, remaining thin and concentrated despite its overflowing power. Ronin met with unwavering, throwing every ounce of mana into a single swing of his sword.

Borealis shrieked, rolling as the two forces clashed. The resulting explosion lit the sky, burning out my vision, searing the air with heat so intense it boiled the air into a sizzling fog. The sound hit a half-second later, a thunderous roar so loud it went silent. Everything did.

Black fissures opened within the expanding ball of fire and mana, the world barrier struggling under the strain. Shockwaves swept across the earth a hundred times stronger than the explosion of the skyship core. They buffeted us relentlessly, tossing around like a leaf in a storm. I clung to Borealis with all the strength I had, anchoring myself to his feathers with a spell whispered in a prayer.

The light didn’t fade, nor did the silence lift. I’d been hurt enough times to know it wouldn’t, not until I managed to cast a Restoration. But the roiling waves of mana in the air were too oppressive, ripping every thread of magic apart the instant it manifested outside my soul. I could only grit my teeth and wait, isolated and helpless, until Borealis fought his way clear. The air was thin from altitude as we cleared, and frigid across my skin. Gasping for breath, I soul-cast a few healing spells, restoring my senses.

The battle was over, the aftershocks still rumbling through the earth. Whatever had survived of the skydocks and their surrounding fortifications was utterly gone. The mountains of settling rubble and burning forest had shifted from the blast, leaving a gaping, spherical valley where the two heroes had fought. A few hesitant rivers trickled from cracks in the peaks and cliffs of the basin, carving the beginnings of new beds across the loose topsoil and ash. Glimmering particles of life mana drifted like fireflies in the dark, blooming flowers, and sprouting saplings where they touched down. The leaves and petals were blood red.

Borealis flapped his wings, gliding into the basin. I waved my hand, summoning a ball of radiance that shed light across the valley, illuminating two figures lying in lengthening wildgrass. There was a sinking feeling in my stomach. Neither of them was moving, and their souls were so faint they were almost indistinguishable from the residual mana.

As we landed, I slid onto Fable’s back. The wolf dropped over Borealis’s wing, carrying me the twenty or so feet to the ground. He landed in a crouch without so much as a jostle, scattering ambient life magic, and carried me to R’lissea.

Dismounting, I ran to her side and dropped to my knees. She was covered in scratches and burns where my wards and Resistance had failed, but her chest rose and fell with shallow, erratic breaths. A sob built in my throat as I cradled her head in my lap, whispering a healing spell. Was this how she always felt finding me after so many of my battles?

R’lissea gasped as the magic soaked into her skin, her eyelids fluttering. She didn’t wake, but her breathing eased, the color returning to her face.

”You did good,” I whispered, smoothing an errant lock of blonde hair behind one of her delicate, pointed ears. ”I’m so proud of you.”

She groaned softly, shifting in my arms. I hugged her, breathing in the light, flowery aroma that always accompanied her. It was acrid with traces of blood and ash, but it still calmed my aching heart. I sniffled, wiping away a tear with a smile.

”Even like this, you’re still comforting me,” I whispered. ”Let me protect you, this time. Haven?”

I didn’t know what caused me to call out; my staff was still hidden between the stars. But my aura twisted, responding to my voice, and a small gate appeared.

I slipped my arms under hers, lacing my fingers around her waist, and tried to lift. But even her slight, slender weight proved too much for me to carry. When I finally managed to get to my feet, never mind dragging her toward the gate, a pair of strong hands took her from my grasp.

”I’ll take it from here,” Fyren said, hefting her as easily as a child. Strong, but also gently. Like he handled me.

I nodded, looking up. The Star Guard surrounded me, giving me encouraging nods. Fatesworn, man and demon alike, poured from the gate, rushing to secure the valley.

”Be careful with her,” I still said, taking R’lissea’s hand as it dangled limply in his grasp.

”I’ll return once she’s safe,” he said, pulling away. I squeezed her hand before letting him pull it out of my grip. He vanished into Haven, entering against the flow of soldiers and scions.

”My Lady!”

I turned at the sound of Bethiv’s voice. The commander stood with several sixth and seventh-level soldiers around another fallen form on the ground. He wore a grim expression, and the hands of his soldiers rested on their swords.

I joined them, barely feeling the ground beneath my feet. Already, my stomach knotted, dread tightening in my chest. It wasn’t because I feared Ronin was dead. That would have made this so much easier.

Ronin lay on the ground, his body bloody and blackened. Where my wards had shielded R’lissea from the worst of it, he had relied almost entirely on the strength given him by Blood Reckoning. By the end of the battle, his armor had been almost entirely destroyed by R’lissea’s elementals and attacks, leaving him vulnerable once he unleashed his ability. Even his natural regeneration had failed, unable to handle the scope and severity of his wounds.

But he was alive. He’d lost most of his skin and the lower portion of one of his legs, but his soul still glimmered.

”So this is the war hero,” Bethiv muttered, nudging him with his foot. ”He must be powerful if he could stand against Lady R’lissea.”

I gave him a surprised look, quickly hiding it. Was she that well thought of amongst the Fatesworn? It made me glow with pride.

Bethiv turned to me. ”What would you have us do with him?”

I wrung my hands. ”I...I don’t know.”

He sighed, nodding like he’d expected the answer. ”It’s a tricky position. He’s too dangerous to be left alone and too powerful to be safely imprisoned. Unless you wish to take him into your realm, I doubt anyone could escape that place unless they’re on the ninth level. And maybe even then. Or the best-case scenario is simply to leave him. With those wounds, he’s not long for this world.”

”You would let him die?” I gasped, my eyes going wide.

He merely shrugged. ”He’s an enemy combatant, my Lady, and hero at that. One of the ones who abandoned you. While it might be distasteful, you have to ask yourself.”

”But...” I trailed off, gripping the hem of my skirt so hard my fingers hurt.

”He could very easily have died in the battle. Would you have been worried about that then?” he asked.

I shook my head. No matter how hard I tried to avoid it, I myself had reaved countless souls in battle. I would again, without hesitation, if it meant protecting those I loved. But after the battle, without his sword to my throat...I shivered, memories of that exact scenario replaying in my mind.

”Wouldn’t it be better to give him to a demon?” Luxxa asked.

I flinched at her suggestion. That was even more awful than leaving him to die.

”Not a bad idea,” Bethiv said, rubbing his chin. ”Hero souls are supposed to be incredibly pure and concentrated with Divine Mana. It might be enough to boost a demon’s power to the eighth level directly.”

Perhaps I should. He had knowingly fought for the church in an effort to kill me, or at least see me enslaved far away from Soltair.

Then again, that seemed like such a long time ago, and R’lissea seemed to hold some feelings for him, even now. Perhaps, with some time and distance from the poison of the church, he could understand our cause. If he, like Victor, saw the church for what it was and gave up on the war, wouldn’t that be enough?

And yet, there was one thing I couldn’t ignore. Ronin fought without a heart crest.