The Forsaken Hero

We quieted down as Luke cleared his throat, everyone listening intently.

”The plan is simple,” Luke said, looking around the circle of faces and meeting each of my friends’ eyes. ”They don’t know we’re coming. The moment we breach the barrier, we split up and eliminate our targets before they can rally. Ninth-level beings are powerful, but they take time to unleash that power. Kill them before they can.”

”Ruthless,” Korra murmured.

He shot her a sharp look. ”This is no time for games. This is war. You can have your fun and your friendly sparring after we win, but until then, it’s kill or be killed.”

”I know, I know,” she said, waving him off. ”That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

He continued, ”Once we’ve taken out the main threats on the grounds, we meet up at the library. The hero of storms and the mage Nithalee shall secure it, slaying the ninth-level mage who guards the entrance to the archives.”

”Which one?” I asked.

”Lysander, of course,” Jessia said, materializing beside me. I jumped slightly, my tail curling around Luke’s leg and squeezing tightly.

”An old acquaintance, I suppose you might call him,” Nithalee said, tossing her hair. ”He might have proved troublesome once, but I’m afraid there are no mages on Enusia who can match me after my studies in Haven.”

”There’d better not be. You’re practically playing with children,” Emlica muttered from where she drifted behind the woman. ”If you lose, I’m not sure you’ll even be allowed back.”

”Lysander...” I murmured, extricating my tail from Luke’s leg. I held it, absently stroking its ridges. My memories of anything before High Valley were hazy, but I remembered the old mage. He was one of the few, alongside Thron and Selena, who had shown me any kindness. My first real spell, Aegis, came from a chance encounter with him, and he’d even offered guidance on using the knowledge I’d gained through the Eyes of Fate.

I didn’t really want him to die, but I held my tongue. I couldn’t let that sentiment cloud my mind.

”What about Soltair?” R’lissea asked, a hint of steel in her voice.

”I’ll deal with him myself,” Luke said.

”I thought you were going after the Pope. If you’re too busy for both, I wouldn’t mind sticking that old bastard with my spear myself,” Grace said.

”The Pope is the greatest threat in the church, save for Soltair. You would have no chance of winning a fight against him, especially because he is always surrounded by church paladins and fathers,” Luke said.

”We probably won’t have to face him. Last I heard—and this came from a rather... motivated source—he’s in the archives themselves, pleading with the gods to grant them divine intervention,” Jessia said.

”How fitting. The final boss always sits at the end of the dungeon,” Korra said.

”Sorry, but the dungeons are our job,” Jessia said, giving her a smug grin.

Korra rolled her eyes. ”Not what I meant.”

Luke let out a short burst of aura, causing them to recoil. I shrank against him, trembling slightly, and flinched as he looked at me. I didn’t like how his tail lashed.

”The true battle begins in the archives. The church has had years to fortify the World Shard against us and will hold nothing back. Every trap, trick, and atrocity they can commit, they will. Those of you who are not willing to do the same had best remain above ground and help the Fatesworn and horde hold off reinforcements.”

His eyes strayed to R’lissea. The elf stared at the Divine Throne in the distance, her lower lip quivering almost imperceptibly. Her ears twitched as if she sensed our gaze, and she gave herself a small shake, turning back.

”I’m going,” she said in a small, determined voice.

”We all are,” Korra said.

”Hmm, we’ll see about that. I might not be in the mood,” Jessia said, twirling a dagger around her fingers.

Luke ignored her, looking around once more before nodding. ”Then it’s decided. We’re all here for different reasons, but we’re here all the same. Fight and win, for there’s no room for defeat. It’ll take everything we have just to make it to the end.”

”Is that supposed to be our inspiring speech?” Jessia asked. ”I’ll be honest, I’m not feeling too inspired.”

”Same,” Korra said, wearing a grin.

”It’s good enough for me. We’ll make all those damned priests and fathers pay for enslaving me,” Grace growled.

”Before we go, Xiviyah, R’lissea, would you care to grant us your blessings?” Luke asked.

R’lissea and I exchanged a look before we began to cast. I bound our souls in a True Nexus first, then granted her access to the weave to add her own magic. I cast Celestial Grace, Shining Aegis, and several other magical wards, while R’lissea bestowed a half-dozen magical effects ranging from physical regeneration to purifying effects that lingered until they were needed. And after all that, I cast Link Ability, sharing Adaptive Resistance and the magical sight of the Oracle of Eternity with everyone.

”I don’t know, Luke. I think I just might be able to take on a ninth-level right now,” Korra said, flexing her hand. A water dragon materialized around her wrist, curling up her arm. It shimmered with power, causing small spatial distortions.

”Yes, this is...” Luke took a long, deep breath and exhaled slowly. ”I wasn’t expecting it to be so much. Xiviyah, it feels oppressive. Has your resistance reached ninth level?”

”I, um... I’m not sure. My soul is still caught between Fate’s hold and Enusia’s gift,” I admitted, clasping my hands in my lap. ”But I don’t think it can have gone that far. It can’t have.”

”Hmm, we’ll see,” he murmured.

”Ready to get going?” Jessia asked, stepping into the circle.

”Right. Xiviyah?” Luke asked.

I summoned my staff, letting out a shuddering breath. ”I think so. We have to be, right?”

”Don’t worry, we’ll be fine,” R’lissea said, giving me a reassuring smile.

”It can’t be worse than the last time you came here,” Korra said.

I shuddered. At least that much was true.

”I can only open rifts to places I remember. I’m sorry, but that’s not much. The library, the mage training grounds, and the, um... Dusk Chambers.”

”That’s direct enough for me,” Grace said.

”Obviously. You’re going to the library,” Korra said, rolling her eyes. ”The rest of us will go to the mage grounds. They’re not far from the warrior training grounds and the above-ground shard.”

That last one was Luke’s primary objective. Claim the shard and hope it gave him enough power to finally defeat Soltair and the Pope.

We waited another minute until Luke nodded. Across the Radian Plains, I felt the infernal hordes stir, rising to war. At the same time, thousands of streams of soul-speak coursed through my soul as Incinderus and Bethiv gave the order. It wouldn’t be long—minutes, maybe—until they met in battle with the forces of the church arrayed outside the Throne.

I waved my staff, dredging up memories of places that had lingered through years of pain and suffering. The grassy fields where I’d cast my first Waterball, the room where Soltair had revealed my heroic calling to the world, and the place where I’d first found myself in the arms of someone who loved me.

The air cracked, ripping open into three small rifts, each just large enough for a person to step through. The edges frayed with golden light. Not so long ago, it had taken every fiber of my being to hold open several portals at once, but now, I barely felt the tug on my soul. Three gates, each burrowing through a ninth-level defensive formation designed to keep them out, and I hardly noticed. Truly, the ninth level was a realm of its own.

”You’d better not keep us waiting for long,” Grace said, dashing through the middle gate with Nithalee, her spear crackling with electricity.

”Good luck, stay safe,” Korra said, slipping through another. R’lissea and Gayron chased after her. Scarcely had they vanished when a shockwave erupted from the gate, smashing through a boulder across from it.

Luke hesitated a second, taking my hand. ”Xiviyah, I... I love you. Never forget that, alright?”

I squeezed his fingers, butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I rose onto my tiptoes, my lips brushing against his. ”Be safe, Luke. I love you too.”

And then Luke was gone, pulling away and vanishing into the second fissure. My hand felt cold and empty as it fell back to my side.

”Guess it’s just us. We’d better get moving before the alarm is raised,” Jessia said.

I nodded and followed her through the third gate into dull, graying halls that had once shone white. A small, cracked cell with a barred door, lit only by a faintly flickering shard of crystal. The stone floor was lumpy and uneven, with dark, coagulated grime filling the seams. Several manacles and chains hung from the ceiling, and the long wooden table that served as the room’s only furniture was covered in scorch marks and ugly black stains.

”Welcome home,” Jessia said, spreading her arms with a smirk. ”We’re finally back!”