The Forsaken Hero -
Chapter 787: Among Old Allies
Chapter 787: Among Old Allies
"Can’t? Or Won’t?" Korra asked, eyes narrowed.
Victor shook his head. "Both. I can’t fight alongside the church anymore, not after what they’ve done. But are you any better? How could I possibly ally with demons?"
"But–" Korra began.
I grabbed her hand. "It’s alright, I understand. But where will you go? There’s nowhere free of war, not anymore."
"North," he said quietly. "Wherever my feet will wander, wherever there are hearts that still yearn for truth and justice."
"What will your god think?" R’lissea asked.
He shrugged helplessly. "Who can say? I still have my power, but tomorrow might be a different story. But I can’t believe the god of justice would stand with the atrocities the church committed. But if he does...he’s no god of mine. I’ll start over from the beginning, if I have to."
Korra’s expression loosened. "Good luck with that. It’s not easy, but shaking off the shackles of someone else’s ideals is liberating."
He studied her face and nodded sharply. "Will do. And what of you? Are you still determined to bring the church to its knees?"
"We’ll do what we must. Sitting out this war is no longer an option," I said.
"Then a word of warning. The elves are strict, traditional people. You may believe you are saving them, but I’m quite certain their elders will see differently. And beware Evlon. I can’t see him retreating to the southern continent with his tail between his legs any time soon. But he’s growing desperate. And desperate men, especially those with power, are the most dangerous."
"Like we didn’t know that," Korra muttered.
With that, we parted ways with the justice hero. I leaned against Korra, her arm around my shoulders, as we watched him disappear into the forest. The demons parted to let him through, but hissed and snapped at him, restrained only by my will. When he was gone, the tension left my muscles, and I slumped against Korra.
"That could have gone worse," I said, breathing a long sigh.
"I wish he would have stayed," R’lissea said.
Korra tossed her hair. "Not me. He’s always been a prick. Better off wandering elsewhere, pretending he’s still a hero."
"Korra," I said, frowning up at her. "These are trying times for everyone. Everything he knew was a lie, and for someone like him, there could be nothing worse. Let him cling to what little light he has left, even if it’s but a shadow of what once was."
She blinked, exchanging a look with Gayron. "Xiviyah, that was...wise? Where did you learn to talk like that?"
Warmth spread across my face, and I looked at my feet, clasping my hands. "Um, sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like I was lecturing."
"No, no, nothing like that. I guess you really have changed," she said.
She chuckled wryly and ruffled my hair, much to my chagrin. Gayron cleared his throat.
"Korra, we should get back to the Company. They’ll need reassurances with so many demons around."
I looked up, eyes brightening. "The Last Light? All of them?"
Korra grinned. "In the flesh. Come on, I’m sure they’ll be anxious to see you again."
I glanced at Fyren, who gave a small nod.
"Go on," he said, folding his arms, a slight smile on his face. "I’ll sort things out here with Zephyriss and Incinderus. I’m sure you wouldn’t care to hear the reports of the battle, anyway. But don’t spend too long. Our time is short, remember."
"Thank you," I said, lowering my head gratefully. "And would you please check on Elise?"
"She’s safe with some of my demons," he replied. "I’ll have them escort her to meet you."
Giving him a small curtsey, I allowed Korra to take my hand and lead us away. The forest rustled with the scrape of scales and crackle of infernal mana, but the scions stayed clear of us, intimidated by Fable’s aura. It didn’t take long to leave the swaths purged by Incinderus’s magic, yet when we did, I wished we hadn’t. Shattered corpses, Risen and demon, littered the woods, nestled in craters, propped against trees, or soaking in pools of hissing blood. Tendrils of Black Mist wove through the air, gradually thinning as time went on.
"I hate these things," Korra muttered, helping me over the decaying corpse of an elf dressed in fine, if tarnished, scale male. "We’ve been fighting them for weeks now. That’s how we came across you, actually."
"You were hunting a Risen horde?" I asked.
She looked surprised. "Yeah, how you’d you...ah, never mind. A lich raided one of the small towns near Brackencliff City."
"Brackencliff?" R’lissea perked up. "Isn’t that the fortress on the Western Border?"
Korra nodded. "It guards the main road to the empire across the Arboreal Plains. We came across it after destroying the last of the Circle’s strongholds." Her gaze went to Borealis, who flapped lazily overhead. A small smile tugged at her lips. "I guess we have that one to thank for even getting that far. See Gayron, I knew Xiviyah sent it."
Gayron huffed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I still think it’s freakish. And wasn’t it, uh, I don’t know, less gold?"
"Yeah, what’s up with that? All the demons around here feel a little weird," Korra said.
At the pace we were traveling at, we didn’t have long to talk before arriving at the last light Company’s ranks, but I didn’t do my best to catch her up on everything that had happened since we were separated in Brithlite. There would be time for a fuller discussion later, so I kept it to the most important things, like the church’s betrayal in Blacksand, our plan to overcome the World Barrier, and the Devoted’s ploy to acquire the fate attribute.
"Primordial Mark? I’ve never heard of such a thing. Does Luke know?" Gayron interrupted as I got to that part.
"No," I answered quietly. For some reason, hearing his name left a small pang in my heart. I had the strangest yearning to hear his voice and see his smile, and breathe in his warm, familiar scent. My horns prickled as I realized everyone was staring at me, and I absently stroked them, blushing as I regained my train of thought.
"He left before we discovered it. I...I’m not sure what I would even say to him."
"Why say anything?" Korra asked, frowning. "It’s not like you have any reason to share secrets with someone like him."
"Korra, don’t be so cold. he saved me. And I...I...he’s kind," I whispered, blushing as she raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"It’s true," R’lissea said. "Luke and the other apostles have been gracious and sympathetic to us from the start.
"Luke? Sympathetic?" Gayron snorted. "He makes ice feel warm."
My stomach twisted, making me feel sick. Luke wasn’t like that at all! Not anymore, at least. Wasn’t he?
Before I could gather the courage to confront Gayron, we crossed over a field filled with slaughtered Risen. There were dozens of them, the woods trampled down by an army of hard steel boots. A few magic lights bobbed in the forest beyond, accompanied by the low murmur of voices.
"Who goes there!" a strong, masculine voice called.
I looked around, finding a fourth-level soldier bearing the colors of the Last Light Company. He held a sword in one hand, his other glowing with the beginnings of a spell. Though his body was almost entirely covered by armor, there was something about his stance that felt dangerous, like a cat stalking its prey. This was no recruit, but a battle-hardened veteran. Perhaps one of the ones who’d been a part of the Company back when it had been an adventuring team. he certainly sounded old enough.
"Just us," Korra said, waving at the sentinel. "Oh, and we found Xiviyah, too."
"Xiviyah? You mean..."
I fought the urge to shrink back as he stared at me, eyes wide behind the slit in his helmet. I offered a timid wave.
"My lady!" he gasped, giving himself a shake. His gauntlet pressed against his chest in a sharp salute. "You’re alive! And well, by the look of things. But what are you--"
"I’m afraid the questions will have to wait," Korra said. "Please, notify Bethiv we’ve returned."
Gasps rippled through the forest as more soldiers appeared, gathering first with wary looks, then with surprise and excitement. They all looked tired, their armor scratched and worn, yet all their gear was well maintained and polished, shining in the evening sun.
The veteran saluted again and waved at a second-level soldier behind him. The soldier, barely more than a boy, took off running. Korra led us through the outer line of guards, waving to many and greeting them by name. Dozens gathered with every step we took, sheathing weapons and watching us with shining eyes. Whispers of ’the Oracle!’ and ’Lady Xiviyah!’ abounded. This time, I really did shrink back, hiding between Korra and Fable.
The forest was cleared, giving way to a temporary war camp. White canvas tents, emblazoned with the sun of Brithlite, were scattered around a rocky crag. At the top of the formation was an open tent pavilion. And standing within, gazing down at us with a small smile, was Commander Bethiv, leader of the Last Light Legion.
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