The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 244: Flight

Chapter 244: Flight

"Sorrin!" Tana cried, rushing forward.

Surrounded by the dissipating remnants of the fifth-level magical technique, Sorrin dropped to one knee, breathing hard. His soul blazed with unsteady light, wavering as it fought to adjust to the rush of power following his breakthrough. Tana made it to his side in an instant, falling to her knees and clutching his arm.

"I’m alright," he said breathlessly.

Vithrass’s eyes narrowed, his brow creasing, and he took a step back. "This was an...unexpected development. Perhaps I’ll leave you to your touching moment and make my retreat."

"Not happening," Rasce said, raising his bow. He released another arrow, which Vithrass intercepted with ease.

"You can’t stop me."

The words seemed strange coming from a man bloodied and torn, but he spoke with such confidence I found myself believing him. He backed away, sword gliding between Dyson and Rasce, until he backed into the wall beside the few chained slaves in the basement. He grabbed a catkin girl by the throat and dragged her before him, using her trembling body as a shield.

Rasce frowned, flinching as the beastkin girl screamed in terror, but kept his bow trained on Vithrass. Dyson stalked closer, his twin blades glowing with mana, but stopped as Vithrass dug his sword into her neck, drawing a bead of blood.

"Another step closer and she dies. I’ve got more, so losing one here isn’t much of a problem. Can you say the same?"

The two hesitated, glancing at each other. VIthrass smiled viciously, nicking the girl again and making her whimper. He began to chant, and several magic circles appeared beneath his feet, rotating out in the now-familiar teleportation spell.

This time, I had the Eyes of Fate, and watched closely, memorizing the runes. It wasn’t a Fate spell, but after witnessing it so many times, I was beginning to familiarize myself with it. As for casting it myself? It would be impossible until I learned what all the runes did or memorized the chant.

As the demonkin vanished, Dyson rushed forward, catching the Catkin girl in his arms. As she collapsed, gasping for air, he snatched the lock on her manacles, gritting his teeth and snapping the steel through brute strength.

"It’s alright, you’re safe now. I’ve got you," he soothed.

The girl nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. "They...they took them. Last night, mother, father, all of them!"

"Where did they go?" he asked, smoothing a lock of hair away from her eyes.

"I-I’m not sure, but I think they’re in the city. That terrible demonkin-" she shivered, clinging tighter to Dyson, "-he said something about the harvest, and it was time to bring in the sheaves."

One of the other captives piped up. "Next moon! I’ve been here the longest, and he was talking through a mirror once, saying they’d make a killing next full moon!"

Sorrin, having regained his strength, walked over to the wall. Tana clung to his arm, repeatedly scanning him for any signs of severe injuries.

The wolfkin’s sword flashed, cutting through the row of chains like they were made of butter. Dyson went around removing the manacles, and the beastkin collapsed to their knees, leaning against the wall and rubbing their wrists.

"Come on, let’s go. The guards will be here at any moment," Rasce said sourly. "There’s no way our entrance went unnoticed."

"Sorry," Tana muttered, "I got caught up in the moment."

"No one’s blaming you," Sorrin said quickly. "Anything else would have taken far longer, and they would have been even more prepared."

I glanced at the Dawn Blades, who were sitting where they’d collapsed minutes ago. The one Fable fought had yet to stir, but I could see from his soul he was alive. Bloody, but alive.

Walking over to the pair, I crouched beside one and grasped his hand. He stirred, a glint of recognition entering his dull eyes, and allowed me to raise him to his feet.

"Please, come with us. You’ll feel better after some rest."

"W-What happened?" he stammered, putting his hand to his head. He seemed confused when his hand came around red, stained by the blood of one of the wounds he’d suffered during the fight.

A hand closed around my wrist, pulling me away. I turned my head, startled, and found myself staring into Rasce’s unblinking eyes.

"Keep your distance, Starlight. We don’t know what’s going on, and they might be dangerous. Until we understand what this curse is, and why it stopped affecting them, we should-"

I pulled away, tearing my wrist from his grasp. "They’re fine, Rasce, and I’m the one who broke the curse."

He frowned, glancing over my shoulder at the two adventurers. "I’m not trying to doubt you, but is something like that even possible? I’ve never heard of magic capable of breaking caress, but even if there was, how can you be so sure it was effective?"

"I told you," I muttered, looking down, a quiver dropping my voice to a whisper. "I can see souls and magic. And I can...I can..."

"You can...?" he prompted, leaning forward and gazing into my watery eyes.

"...protect people from magic," I finished in a small voice.

"How vague," the ranger muttered, tone dripping with suspicion. "I don’t suppose you care to elaborate?"

My tail trembled, and I pressed a nervous hand to my breast, feeling the rapid pulse of my heart. Rasce’s hard stare bored into me, chasing me as I stumbled back a step, stirring the stress, fear, and trauma of the battle to a frothing sea of agitation in my heart.

Fable growled, his fur standing on end, and stalked between us. Rasce grimaced and tore his gaze away, stalking over to join Dyson in looting the bodies. Freed of his gaze, I sagged in exhaustion, reaching out to trail a hand through Fable’s fur. It softened beneath my touch, turning from prickly steel armor to soft, fluffy fur in an instant. He looked up at me, the stars swirling through his eyes, and licked my hand.

"Thanks," I whispered.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell them about myself, for I truly yearned to be understood, but in the pressure of the moment, I had reflexively shied away. They deserved to know the truth, to understand why things happened around me the way they did, but I just couldn’t bring myself to explain it.

"Come on," Sorrin called, standing beneath the locked access doors. He drew his sword and concentrated his mana, channeling through his sword in surging waves. Pointing it upward, he released a fourth-level magical technique, effectively obliterating the door and whatever magic reinforced it.

Holding Tana by the waist, the wolfkin leaped off the ground, soaring through the gaping hole and exiting the basement. Dyson and Rasce helped the three wounded Dawn Blades through.

After ferrying the slaves up, Dyson turned back, preparing to leap down to help me, but Fable moved first. He grew in size, swelling until his shoulders were slightly above my own. Lowering his body, he looked back at me, and I nodded, climbing on his back. Leaning over, I clutched the thicker mane of hair around his neck and bit my lip, holding back my voice as he leaped upward.

The warehouse was in fiery ruins, the flames having spread across the entire structure during our battle. Voices sounded between the snaps and cracks of the burning wood, drawing nearer by the second. They vanished at times, drowned out as the building groaned, its supports weakened by the blaze. Black clouds of smoke filled the building, kept from our lungs by the thin layer of circling air I’d conjured earlier.

The heat should have been unbearable, but Adaptive Resistance dulled it to a faint, dry warmth. Even so, we had no intention to linger, and fled through the broken wall, slipping into the night. Dyson led the way, twisting through alleys and darting down streets. The sight of our heavily armed and extremely bloody party got us through the thin night traffic, with even the sketchiest denizen of the darkest alley backing away before Sorrin had a chance to so much as growl.

Somehow, we made it the Glossy Swallow. The common room was slower than usual, with only a few regular patrons drinking the evening away. The innkeeper took one look at our ragged group and ushered us into the private dining room, shutting the door and standing with his hands on his hips.

"What the hell is happening?" he cried, sneaking a peak outside to make sure no one was following us.

"Please, settle down," Sorrin said, raising his hands soothingly, "I can explain everything. But first, do you have something for these people?" he gestured at the beastkin captives we had freed, who were huddled against the far wall, their eyes wide and haunted. "They haven’t eaten in days."

The innkeeper glanced at them, and his gaze softened. "The cook’s gone home for the night, but I’ll see if Sharon can find any leftovers. Sharon!" he called, sticking his head out the door.

A curvy rabbitkin in a revealing maid’s outfit ran over, carrying a platter stacked with empty bear mugs. The innkeeper spoke to her softly, and she glanced over her shoulder before nodding.

As the waitress ran off, the innkeeper drew back a chair, settling his massive, Boarkin weight down carefully. The wood groaned beneath his weight, but he gave a satisfied nod as it held.

"So what’s all this about slavers?"

As Sorrin began to explain, I looked around, finding the private dining room far better furnished than I anticipated. There were several large tables, a few decorative fixtures, and a small, cheery hearth blazing in the corner. I immediately found my way over and knelt down, stretching my fingers out before the flames. Fable lay down beside me, curling his length protectively around my shivering body. I leaned into him, resting my head on his flank and closing my eyes, enjoying the combined warmth of his pelt and the fire.

"Still cold? I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner," Tana said, taking a seat across from me.

"He was just trying to break you, I think," I whispered, keeping my eyes closed. "Or test me, perhaps. It was hard to tell, but I’m not sure he really intended to win that battle. He could have killed any of us at any time, yet he used to opportunity to observe our strengths and abilities. I...I don’t want to know what he’s planning."

Tana sighed long and hard, and I opened my eyes to find her resting her chin on her hand, her eyes glimmering wetly.

"I thought we lost you," she said, "And Sorrin, too. Even if what you said is true, it was too close. I don’t ever want to do that again."

"Me either, but I’m not sure we have a choice. There’s something else, too," I murmured, closing my eyes again. My eyelids were so heavy, my mind tired, but I couldn’t sleep yet. "I think that Helron’s cursed too. I only realized it during the battle, but I saw the same curse on his soul that the Dawn Blades had."

Rasce’s voice sounded beside me, causing my eyes to flash open. He’d taken a seat across from Tana, his hands folded neatly in his lap.

"Then it was all a trap. The request, the Dawn Blades, the warehouse, everything. But why? What was so important they’d go through all of that effort? They even lost two of their precious shadow golems, and those looked far more powerful and expensive than the one we fought previously. What could be so important it would make it all worth it? Or perhaps the better question," he said, turning to look at me. "Isn’t what, but who?"