The Forsaken Hero

Vorinth Nesturo oversaw the battle from a fortified noble’s mansion in the midst of his army. Several huge, multi-decked skyships hovered overhead, posted against the Fatesworn fleet swarming the skies over the market. My aura prevented regular scrying magic from working, so it seemed he’d returned to mundane means, using dozens of soldiers as scouts to bring his mages the information on our position and numbers so that they could update their illusory maps.

The king’s face was worn and grayed beyond his years. He was, perhaps, twenty, at the most. Around the same age as Luke, though comparing them at anything made me sick.

With their new resistances, the Fatesworn had no issue holding the line, and as more arrived through the gates, they began to expand into the city, pushing the enemy soldiers back. Urban fighting was brutal and bloody, and the Fatesworn were relentless. Corpses wearing the tattered white of the church and the crimson of Radia piled up, and the gutters ran red with human blood. It hurt my heart to see so many enslaved with the heart crest cut down, but until we managed to claim the cathedral, there was nothing else we could do. This was war.

But we weren’t without successes, and Bethiv’s forces made steady progress toward King Vorinth’s command and the cathedral he guarded. Whenever a squad claimed a barracks, fort, or mansion, a fate demon would call through the Primordial Mark. I responded subconsciously, letting my aura coalesce into a gate, delivering reinforcements directly to the front line.

Over the city, a full-fledged aerial battle was taking place, where the Skyknights engaged the enemy fleet directly. The sky reverberated with the thunderous sound of cannon fire, and streaks of blinding white light flashed back and forth like lightning. Skyships dipped and wheeled, dancing around each other, exchanging fire with reckless abandon. They rammed into each other, crushing through wards with their hulls and unleashing raiding parties to fight on the decks. Losers were sent careening from the sky in flaming wrecks, exploding as they collided with the city below.

As I watched the battle with awe, marveling at how easily the skyships of the Astral Fleet outmaneuvered and overpowered the Radian ones, the Oracle of Eternity screamed in warning. It came suddenly and from everywhere, overwhelming my soul in violent, irrepressible tingles. I caught the barest hint of an invading presence before an overwhelming body seized my body. I choked mid-breathe, losing sight of the battle and very nearly my spell.

The market had shifted in an instant. Fable had sat beside me, staring vigilantly into the city, while Verity hovered nearby. Now, my wolf had seemingly teleported across the square, looming over a silver silhouette with long, shining hair. Her sword was caught mid-swing by his claw, and from the trail of mana behind her, she’d been heading right for me.

”Damn you, mutt. How can you possibly see through fate?” Verity’s voice spat from Fate’s lips.

He kicked back just in time to avoid a half-dozen arrows. They thunked into the ground where he’d been, sinking through the stone like it was water. He shot a glare at Gith and the other Nightwatch guarding me. Luxxa and Kahlen moved in front, though they had to understand they could do nothing before the god. My knuckles whitened at the thought, knowing I was helpless to help them. I had to finish this spell, or any sacrifice we made would be in vain.

”Fyren, please help them,” I cried between runes, risking a glance.

The demon had already moved. Fate lunged forward again, twisting fate to a standstill. My aura erupted in tingles again, and when it faded, the four had shifted again. Fate had made it another three steps closer, but this time, it was Verity who had stopped him. Fyren had somehow overshot, his sword extended. No, not overshot. A trail of blood hung suspended in the air between his blade and Fate’s cheek. It dropped all at once, splattering a line of droplets across the courtyard.

Fate touched his cheek, his fingers coming away red. Verity winced, absently brushing her own face.

”You would stand against your god?” Fate snarled, pressing down on Verity. Their swords met several times, and Verity stumbled back, gripping her hilt in both hands as it quivered from the clash.

”You are no god of mine. Not anymore,” she shot back, shifting into a more defensive stance.

”You traitor!” Fate cried, bringing his sword down hard.

Verity vanished, and his blow swung into the ground. It unleashed a torrent of mana, tearing the square in half. I cried out, stumbling as rocks and boulders broke into my wards. Luxxa caught my arm and steadied me.

”Keep going, my Lady. Don’t give up,” she whispered encouragingly.

Six circles, done. As far as I’d made it in the Solari Mountains. Everything beyond this was uncharted territory. The strain was manageable, but at this rate, it would take me at least ten more minutes to finish. Was that even possible? That might as well be a year for how quickly they fought, thought, and moved.

”You were supposed to bring me the oracle, not join her!” Fate said, slashing around, searching for Verity.

She struck from the shadows when his back was turned. He reacted instantly, before her blade had fully materialized, blocking it with ease. He spun, his hand shooting out, grasping for her throat, but she managed to disappear into the safety of my aura in time.

Fyren advanced on him, and Fable prowled from the side, carefully flanking him. Fate growled in annoyance, giving me a scrutinizing look before turning to face them. I let out an unconscious sigh of relief. He was fast, but not fast enough. Not when my friends were so comfortable with his power.

”You, demon, how dare you stand before me? Know you not how many millions of your kin I have slaughtered?”

”Demons live to die. It is part of the cycle.”

”A cycle you seek to subvert. That’s right, I know your plan, though why you have chosen to remain unbound to the girl and refuse her gift is a foolish notion; not even I can see the purpose to it.”

”Unbound?” Fyren blinked, and Fate attacked suddenly, slashing at his neck. But even surprised, Fyren wasn’t taken off guard. He parried it easily, though the force of the blow forced him back a step.

”Yes, you rejected her mark, didn’t you. Not that it matters. One less of those abominable fate demons for me to annihilate once the divinity is mine. Balance must be brought back.”

”Balance?” FYren snorted, sending Fate’s sword away with a skillful swipe, but the god was too fast for him to capitalize on it. ”That you sought to sit upon the throne of fate shows how little you understand of balance.”

”A demon? Defend a fallen god?” Fate actually laughed. It was hauntingly similar to Verity’s but filled with malice that sent shivers down my spine.

As the two fought, Fyren was slowly retreating. Not because he wanted to, but because Fate was that much stronger. What I didn’t understand was why he hadn’t unleashed his full divine might yet. His soul, avatar though it was, had crossed the threshold of ninth level. He could sweep us away with a single spell, had he wanted, or he could use the technique he’d destroyed Luke’s horde with.

Was he saving it? Was that why he fought with Verity’s body alone? He couldn’t regenerate his mana, but what need had he of mana if he could claim the divinity here and now? It wasn’t like he actually cared about saving Enusia. I was confident of that above all else.

”Verity, something’s wrong,” I whispered, sending the same message to Fable and Fyren. ”He’s planning something.”

”No, not planning,” Fyren returned, grunting as he blocked another hit. ”Waiting. He’s waiting for something. Fable, see to the perimeter. I have a feeling–”

”Xiviyah!” Verity cried, materializing in front of me. Her sword flashed, and a sharp, metallic clang rang out. Something flickered past, and pain exploded in my side. At the same time, something sliced across my arm and leg, drawing blood.

I screamed and fell back, losing my grip on my staff. pick myself up. Blood and pain pulsed from my side, just above my left hip. I pressed my hand to a gaping wound and felt a metal blade slice into the pad of my finger. Tears blurred my vision, and my throat grew ragged. My mana was slipping away, cut by a cold, uncaring knife, and no matter how I clasped, the distance grew. In a last-ditch effort to keep my spell, I bound it to the Aetherial Prism, praying the artifact alone would survive the weight of such magic.

The edges of my vision began to dim. In the distance, I could hear Luxxa and Jenna’s voices. I was so cold, so...tired.

”It’s not working! My magic’s sliding right off!” Luxxa cried.

”I can’t sense any magic,” Verity’s voice came, fast and frantic.

Someone took my hand, and I spasmed as their fingers brushed the wound across my fingers. There was a gasp. ”She cut her hand! There’s more than one blade. Quick, help me get them out! They must be stopping the magic!”