The Forsaken Hero

”Thank you, Verity. I know it can’t have been easy to hold on,” I said sincerely.

Her face fell. ”No, don’t. I owed it to you. When Fate called me, I...I thought I could make a difference. I thought that I, as silly as it sounds, might be able to lead this world to the dawn.”

Her eyes glistened, glowing softly as they brimmed with tears.

”But I wasn’t enough. The gods didn’t need a guiding star. They didn’t want to bring hope to the hopeless. They wanted power. They wanted you. And I was just their means to accomplish that.”

”Verity--”

”Don’t, Xiviyah. I’m not worthy of your pity. It was my ability that prolonged this war. I’ve caused you so much hurt and suffering. Every time they ambushed you, every time they managed to break past your defenses, that was me. And I thought I was a hero for it. Soltair said--” she broke off, closing her eyes. A single tear ran down her cheek. ”I thought he loved me. He encouraged me, taught me how to be a hero, and even made love to me, but...”

I swallowed hard, blinking back my own tears. The pit in my stomach deepened as she bit her lip.

”...in the end, he was the one that clasped the chain around my neck.”

Her chest rose and fell as she took a slow breath.

”Do you hate him?” I whispered.

She looked at me with sad eyes. ”No. I...I can’t. He just did what he thought was right. I should have seen who he really was. I hate fate in my hands. I should have seen everything.”

”It’s okay, Verity,” I said softly, touching the snow in front of me. A flower sprouted, curling open beneath my palm. ”No one can know every path, not even the one they’re on. And you were a light, even if you didn’t know it. You shone for me, and showed me what it meant to be a hero of fate. You’re the reason I’m here today, instead of hiding far away from darkness and war.”

”A star for one. Maybe...maybe that’s enough?” she asked, tinged with hopefulness. ”Will you...will you do what I couldn’t? Will you be the light that leads to the dawn?”

A lump stuck in my throat. ”I’ll try. And Verity, if you want, I can...release you. You don’t have to suffer here in the cold or dark alone. I can send you into oblivion, to be reborn in another world.”

She closed her eyes, letting out a deep breath. ”I...I’d like that. It’s been so long since I felt the sun.”

”But,” I said, and she opened her eyes, looking confused. ”There might be another path. If you wish, I can allow you to remain. Your soul is whole; it’s just missing something to anchor it. It will be dangerous, and maybe not work, but...I give you that anchor. You can still be that light. We can become it together.”

Verity was silent for a long time. She glanced over her shoulder, toward the woods where Luke had disappeared. And then, finally, she nodded.

”You won’t come back as you were. You won’t have the freedom to do as you please,” I said.

”I understand. But if I can do anything to right the wrongs of my existence, I want to. It’s my role, even if my god saw it otherwise. I never did it just because I was a hero, but because it was right. And so is this.” She took a breath, her resolve firming in her voice. ”They grew wary of me after I began to understand their natures, but after they cursed me with the Heart Crest, they stopped caring about hiding anything. I know everything about their fears, their weakness, and their plans. If that will be of use to you, to help you end this and preserve a world for after this war, then I cannot flee now.”

”Thank you,” I whispered. I stood and offered my hand to her, palm open, waiting.

She drifted closer, her eyes sad and solemn, and gently touched her fingers to mine. She was insubstantial, but a tingle raced up my arm. In an instant, I knew her. I could see the world as she saw it. Her feelings, her thoughts, her convictions. Her fear of the darkness, and the hatred she had lied about. The faith that had preserved her after she’d had her body, and her purpose, torn away by her uncaring god.

I pressed deeper, drawing on the full might of the Oracle of Eternity. The weave manifested, blossoming like flowers around me. Her soul was woven of countless stars, and unlike Luke, had no fissure of oblivion dividing it. The tie between her and Enusia was present, if slowly fading. There was nothing to rebuild, no chasm to bridge.

Her soul was warm to me, resonating with my own. The same connection that I’d felt every time we’d met in the flesh, the overlap in our existence that caused our abilities to bleed together, called to me. Soul to soul, fate to fate.

I drew on that call, that longing. I didn’t really know what I was doing, or if it would even work, but if I had managed to bring Luke back in the depths of Oblivion, surely I could save one small soul that had only just begun to wander.

There was no knowledge I had, no instructions on how to proceed, but the path felt clear to me. I began to weave fate like mana, laying threads without hesitation. It was as if fate itself guided my hand.

”What is this?” Verity whispered, watching as golden light encircled her. ”What are you doing? How are you using the stars? It’s...not possible.”

The golden glow swirled faster, enveloping her completely. I gasped as something intimately brushed my soul, a bond forming.

”I can feel it,” she murmured, ”I can feel you.”

”Then come to me. Accept the call.”

She didn’t hesitate. The light imploded, sucked into her soul in a whirlpool of stars. She began to brighten, and gradually, I felt warmth where her fingers rested in my palm. Her hand firmed, gripping mine. There was a flash of light, and then everything went still.

Fate slipped from my grasp, and the world returned. I blinked in the bright sunlight. My aura had thickened into a thick mist, obscuring everything beyond a few inches. Verity was gone.

”Verity...?” I called tentatively. Has it worked? I didn’t feel any different, but--

An illusory, silver being glided out of the mists. It was just a shadow, but a second later, Verity herself emerged, following the same path. My aura cleared, letting me get a good look at her. She maintained the same look as her soul form, but had gained a degree of substance. Her entire body was translucent and radiated silver light. It was like looking at a remnant. A silver remnant. The only difference was that she actually had a soul.

”You...you did it,” she whispered, turning her hands over and touching her face. She laughed, a sudden, joyous sound that made me smile, too. She flew into me, embracing me fiercely. ”You really did it, Xiv! The darkness...it’s gone!”

She felt real, and I hugged her back, giggling as she spun me around. I could feel her soul tie to me in the same way I was connected to Haven, and the remnants themselves. A bond forged through the divinity, and bound to it. Though I could feel her, she didn’t actually have a physical body. She was simply able to manifest it in my aura.

What was odd was that she still had her own mana. There was no draw from my soul to project her. Indeed, I hadn’t even built the mechanism in. Right now, she had the elementary, basic existence, far more so than the other remnants. It was just enough to let her existence, completely dependent on me. I’d modeled it after the bond haven and the remnants had, just on a much smaller and more manageable scale.

There were so many questions. Could she use magic or arts? Would she regain mana on her own? Why could she see everything she did a full second before she did it?

No, that wasn’t right. I couldn’t just see her ahead of time. I could see everything. Fable’s tail swishing, Borealis preening his feathers. Everything that occurred happened before it actually did.

”You can see it, too?” Verity asked, holding me by the shoulders, giving me an appraising look.

I nodded, and she beamed.

”That’s my Foresight. You must have seen it before, when our souls bled together.”

”I saw a shadow. Nothing like this,” I wondered, waving my hand. There was no silver blur.

”It doesn’t work for you,” she said, chuckling. ”Just everyone else. Here, did that do anything?”

The silver blurs suddenly vanished. ”Y-yeah,” I stammered, caught off guard by how vulnerable I suddenly felt.

”Interesting. It looks like the ability still belongs to me, but you can see it. I wonder if the opposite is true, too. I’ve always wondered what it felt like to ignore enemy magic.”

”Can you even do anything?” I asked, tilting my head. ”Like fight? I’m cursed. I don’t know if that extends to you now that our souls are bound.”

She drew her sword. I flinched, bracing for a wave of nausea, but it never came. She swished it through the air a few times, and then turned toward the forest. Mana surged in her soul, and she slashed through empty air. A silver arc leaped from the tip of her blade, slicing through several trees before dispersing. The trunks crashed to the ground, making the ground shake.

She turned to me, her eyes lighting up. ”It works!”