The Forsaken Hero

I could see everything. Every building in the city, every skyship in the air. Every soul of every soldier, demon, and civilian. My aura stretched beyond the city across the Radian Plains to the walls of the Divine Throne, and just as far in the opposite direction. Enusian fate entwined with the stars of my aura, becoming one cohesive domain.

Luke’s horde was so vast I felt only fragments of it, but him, I found battling beneath the shadow of the walls. Soltair fought him with Solaria at his side, and a ninth-level warrior I vaguely remembered from the visions of various war councils. A paladin of the church, wielding a flanged mace and holy light.

Luke’s curses writhed everywhere, branching through the air like living roots. He wore a grim expression and bled from several cuts and wounds. Sunpurge glittered behind a gash in his robe, and every time he parried Soltair’s sword, he winced, favoring that arm.

Korra and Gayron were across my domain, fighting against an arbiter. The being flew on wings of fiery light and wielded a bow that shot flaming arrows. The shafts turned to meteors as they left his bow, trailing blazing flames and forming craters dozens of feet wide when they landed in the city below. He was ninth-level, but somehow, they’d already drawn blood, with one of Gayron’s flickers leaving a nasty cut across his thigh.

Grace and Borealis had formed a team of sorts in the skies above, fighting alongside the Astral fleet against the church’s skyships. Her crackling spear shredded through the ship wards, opening the way for the massive Fate demon to dive in and tear the hulls apart.

R’lissea alone fought on the front lines of the battle between the Fatesworn and Radian Knights. From the looks of it, she’d mostly been supporting several seventh-level Fatesworn who had been fighting with her, but What Once Was Shall Come Again had stolen that role, leaving no wounds to heal.

Now, she fought against an arbiter, a sun mage, who was only eighth-level, yet neither held the advantage. R’lissea’s elementals were easily scorched by sun magic, yet it held little power against the hero herself, cloaked in Adaptive Resistance as she was.

The power within me kept growing, surging in spikes that stole my breath and set my heart pounding. My soul was heavy and swollen, burning from the inside out. It was only getting worse. I had to end this before it overwhelmed me and I lost consciousness. At this point, that felt inevitable, and I began to wonder whether I’d even wake up again. It was already this bad, and the Realm Inheritance hadn’t even set in yet.

But first, I had to find Fyren. The darkness within my soul was growing deeper and colder. Where was he? Why had my magic not brought him back? Was it because Fate had torn him from–no, it couldn’t be. Arantius had said....

I clenched my jaw, my tail stiff and rigid. I was certain, now, that his anger wasn’t my own, but I had no desire to sway its path. I resummoned my staff, focusing all of the power welling up inside me into the star at its tip. The crystal lit up like the sun, chasing the shadows from the broken marketplace. It was blinding, and I had to avert my eyes, blinking away dazzling sun spots.

The power kept flowing until it began leaking out, unable to be contained within the artifact. The words came to my lips unbidden, but they felt right.

”Realm Descent!”

The light exploded outward, matching, almost, the pulse caused by What Once Was Shall Come Again. Mana condensed like dew across every surface. Golden mist rose in wisps across the ground, curling around boots and rubble, then rising to envelop the skyships. Winds scoured the sky, spiraling out until every cloud and snowflake had vanished. There was still a sliver of sunset on the horizon, lightening the dusk, but for some reason, the sky was an inky black, right up until the grays and reds. Thousands of stars, maybe millions, shone like diamonds on black velvet, close enough that I felt like I could reach out and grab them.

My discomfort and my breathing eased as I fell under the familiar starlight. I took my first full breath in almost an hour, every aura and shockwave muted around me. I spread my arms wide, welcoming Haven’s embrace.

A single star fell from the heavens, alighting in the market a few steps in front of me. A glowing being rose from the mists in its place, translucent gold but shaped like a warrior. Tall and broad-shouldered, in heavy plate armor, with a sword taller than I was.

”We come, my Lady,” said Gathrin, pressing a gauntleted hand to his breastplate in a formal salute.

I lowered my arms, clasping a hand to my breast. ”Gathrin?”

More stars fell, and remnants appeared around me. Five, ten, twenty, fifty...they didn’t stop. Nellie and Jasrin stood there, grinning and waving. Invica tossed her hair, holding her staff, and Ernyst raised his sword to me.

A hulking figure formed directly beside Gathrin, leaking wisps of starlight like molten flames. Incinderurs’s horn-crowned head reared thirty feet tall, dominating the market.

”At last,” he growled, stretching his thick, plated arms. They flexed with power, making the air tremble. ”I thought you would never call. What are your orders, Oracle?”

I gaped up at him, at all the starry residents of Fate, but mostly him. Ninth-level. Incinderus’s soul was little more than a projection, yet I shivered in his presence. And Gathrin was the same, as were a dozen of the others. The remnants had grown with me, but with every level, more and more reached a threshold their faded, lingering souls could no longer cross. But not all of them. They would be restricted by my mana, but with the Realm’s Inheritance, I doubted that would be an issue.

”Gathrin, please find Luke. He needs help,” I said, shaking off my awe. ”Incindurus, take the others and support the Fatesworn. We need to...”

I trailed off as an awestruck quiet gripped the square. I turned to see what everyone was looking at, and gasped. There, standing beside me, was another golden figure, but this one was no remnant.

”F-Fate?” I squeaked, taking a half-step back.

The long hair, that beautiful, shimmering gown, the endless night in her eyes...There was no mistaking it.

”Hello, little one,” Fate said, smiling kindly. ”Please, do not forsake your confidence because of me.”

”But you’re... here...? How?”

”You called, did you not? It’s only right that I come to my beloved child’s aid.”

Tears filled my eyes. Conscious of the eyes on us, I blinked them away, biting my lip to keep from sniffling. ”R-Right. Um, Incinderus, take command with Bethiv. We must take and hold the city. And we need to make it to the shard. It’s guarded by arbiters, but if we can, we’ll be able to free the Heart Cursed soldiers.”

”It shall be as you command,” Incinderus said, lowering his head.

”And fear not, child, your beloved shall not face defeat this day,” Gathrin agreed.

The remnant vanished in a puff of stars, as he had in Haven. His presence resurged across the plains, and his immense aura came crashing down on Soltair, Luxaria, and the ninth-level warrior. For a moment, they faltered, regarding the newcomer warily and giving Luke a chance to catch his breath.

Remnants began teleporting away, traveling in the twinkle of an eye anywhere they pleased within my aura. The Fatesworn were protected in the folds of fate I had laid about them, but the lines had ground to a halt this late in the battle. Incinderus changed that with a single spell, unleashing a hellstorm of fire upon an entire battalion of soldiers barricading the main road. Their screams ascended as thousands were reduced to ash, clearing the way for the Fatesworn vanguard to advance. The demon gave me a nod, and then disappeared, traveling to Commander Bethiv’s side. The old soldier nodded as if he’d been expecting him, already pointing to their next move on the map.

With the fight for Roann rapidly swinging in our favor, I let myself sag, leaning on my staff. I looked up at my goddess, eyes filled with wonder. ”You’re really here. In Enusia?”

Her smile faded, and she took me by the hands, looking deep into my eyes. I saw myself reflected in the endless night, small and fragile, glowing like a beacon. A fire that burned too hot with too little fuel.

”You have not won yet,” she said quietly, tempering my excitement. ”A god, even an avatar, is not so easy to slay. If you wish to lay this threat to rest, then you must be prepared to pay the price.”

”I’m ready. Isn’t that why I broke through?” I asked.

Her smile returned in part. ”Perhaps, though there is a much greater purpose in your strength. I shall guide you in wielding it, so you can draw forth your full potential. And then you shall take the fight to him.”

”What about me? I feel...different,” Verity said, looking at her hands. She glowed much brighter too, though it didn’t seem that my new strength had pulled her through the gates of ninth.

”For you, lost one, there is yet an opportunity. The false god has taken your body, but has not destroyed it. If you and Xiviyah manage to drive him out, you might reclaim it. This is a hope, not a promise. It all depends on you.”