The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 788: Wanderings of the Company

Chapter 788: Wanderings of the Company

"So, you’ve finally made it back to us," Bethiv said as we climbed the rocky crags, arriving at the command pavilion.

"Bethiv," I whispered, looking at him. My eyes filled with tears, and I took a tentative step toward him, only to pause, gripping my skirt and staring at the ground.

"Oh, don’t be shy, come here," he said, spreading his arms wide.

I didn’t second-guess the invitation and fell forward, wrapping my arms around his torso. My fingertips barely brushed around his back, and his armor was hard and rigid. Even so, I practically melted into his grandfatherly embrace, sniffling with unshed tears. The old soldier smelled of sweat, blood, and...home.

"I’m relieved to see you’re well again," he said, patting my back.

"I...I’m glad you’re alive," I buried my head against his chest as his hand rose, stroking the back of my head.

"You can thank your friend for that. I think we all would have given up from exhaustion at some point if not for her boundless enthusiasm. Ah, to be young."

He chuckled and shook his head, earning a glare from Korra.

"You’re all just too old and slow, or waaay too young and inexperienced," she said.

He shrugged, rocking me with the motion. "That’s the nature of war. When the soldiers die, there’s none but old men and young boys to take their place."

Despite the warmth of the evening sun and his embrace, I shivered. My tail curled around my leg, the tip brushing his greaves.

"How many are left?" I asked.

Bethiv let out a sigh, releasing me. His hand lingered on my shoulder, keeping me at an arm’s distance away. His eyes were gray and sad.

"Eight thousand, of the ten we began with," he said."

"Don’t sound so grim," Korra said. "Many of those two thousand were lost in the battle for brithlite, and almost half of them haven’t actually died. They’re just...wounded."

"You don’t have enough healers?" I asked, tilting my head.

"I’m afraid not. With the battles coming day by day, even our strongest healers can’t keep up with the sheer number of wounded. It’s all they can do to mend life-threatening injuries." He cleared his throat, forcing a smile. "But come, let us speak of happier matters, for this is truly a joyous occasion."

With a firm grip, he guided me into the tent. Several fifth and sixth-level soldiers waited in the open pavilion, their armor gleaming brighter than any of the soldiers we’d passed on our way here. All except for one: an older man in mottled armor with a heavy scar across his eye, like Luke’s. His face split in a grin.

"Little lady, you made it!" he said.

"Jackal?" I asked, staring up at him. "You’re alive, too?"

He pounded his chest with a dull thump. "Alive and in the flesh."

The man standing beside him sneered. "Have some dignity, Captain. You stand in the presence of apostles and heroes."

"And Joel," I said, my smile a little less warm as I looked at the other man. He was tall and thin, a little less powerful than Jackal, but with far more grace and presence. Where the other’s armor shone, his gleamed, flawlessly polished. The enchantments were worn, meaning he’d seen battle often, yet not one button was tarnished or dull.

Joel gave a crisp salute. "Welcome back, my Lady."

"Who are these?" R’lissea asked, coming up behind me.

"Joel and Jackal. My captains," Bethiv said. "And you must be the Life hero. Korra’s told us much about you, including that we owe you for saving Lady Xiviyah’s life."

"Just Xiviyah," I said, avoiding their gaze. "All of you, please. I’m not a lady."

"Ah, yes, I forgot, though I beg to differ," he said, giving me a forbearing smile. "But, as you wish. Just...Xiviyah."

The rest of the men and women in the tent were familiar, but not names I remembered. They were lower-ranking officers, serving under Joel and Jackal, yet important enough to be present in the command pavilion. Bethiv introduced them all, but nervous as I was amongst them, I forgot their names almost immediately.

Once everyone on both sides was introduced, Bethiv waved his hand. A few soldiers entered, retrieving chairs for R’lissea and me from their spatial rings. Gayron hugged Korra from behind, holding her with his hands laced together around her waist. He earned a small glare from me, but I forgot my irritation as Elise suddenly burst into the tent.

"Xiviyah, are you alright?" she asked, running over.

I smiled, doing a little twirl for her, showing her I was uninjured. She breathed a sigh of relief and looked around, finally noticing the others. As I stopped moving, my dress settled back around my thighs from where it’d risen from the spin. Poorly concealed stares from the grizzled soldiers caused my skin to burn, and I squeaked, dropping into my seat, tugging my skirt over my knees.

Bethiv cleared his throat loudly, directing a frown at the worst offenders. When they’d lowered their heads in shame, he saluted Elise.

"Lady Elise, heir of Brithlite. We welcome you to our camp," he said.

Soft gasps echoed from the soldiers, and I let my shoulders sink in relief as their gazes shifted from me to the golden-haired princess. She started to shy away, looking about to protest with the unusual title he gave her, but didn’t. Her jaw firmed, and she straightened, appearing calm and composed under their gazes.

"Thank you, Commander," she said. "It brings me great joy to see you and your forces are well. Xiviyah tells me you were hunting the Circle."

"And I’m proud to say we’ve eliminated the last of their strongholds from the Northern Continent," Bethiv replied.

What followed was something of a report of their actions since the time we’d been separated. I knew much of it already, having loosely followed them through visions, but I kept that to myself.

In all, they’d crushed seven strongholds, including cities set aside for experimenting with the heart crest. The worst were the secret fortresses and slave warehouses built within caves and mountains, like the one the Korra and Gayron found with the undead dragon. When they shared that part, I was forced to admit I’d seen them in a vision and sent Borealis to their aid. At the mention of his name, the ice demon flew into the tent, alighting on my shoulder. I pulled him into my lap, grateful for something to hold as the conversation dragged out, and my attention wavered, and my mind started to wander. There were only so many battle reports and numbers I could listen to at once.

"To think you command such powerful demons," Bethiv said, looking at Borealis thoughtfully. "Tell me, is the horde surrounding us now all yours? My scouts estimated there to be twenty, maybe thirty thousand."

"They call themselves the Devoted, and are bound to me with a bond more powerful than any Infernal mark," I said, stroking Borealis’s crest of cool feathers. "I trust them with my life."

"And are we held in the same regard?" he pressed gently, but firmly.

"Yes, I asked them to treat you as my friends," I said, smiling at Elise.

She nodded back. "I can attest to their integrity. Some time ago, I negotiated a truce between the Infernal Horde and the Blacksand Empire. They’ve honored every article and allowed their people to live. Xiviyah’s demons are far more tame than that horde, and have never once so much as disrespected me."

I watched Elise closely as she talked, struggling to reconcile her smooth, articulate words with the playful girl who so often teased me. It was like watching her in the halls of Blacksand all over again, as skilled and graceful a noble as any I’d ever met, be they from Radia, Blacksand, or the Divine Throne.

One question burned above my wonder and admiration for Elise. What was she so afraid of? Why couldn’t she hold her confidence before the aristocrats of Blacksand, or even before Bethiv’s greeting? Did it have something to do with the letter she received from her parents? About why they disowned her?

I shook my head, bringing myself back to the present. Elise would tell me when she was ready, and right now, I really needed to focus, no matter how much my mind tried to wander.

"What of the elves?" R’lissea asked. "Echo Hearth was abandoned...and the horde that attacked us just now..."

Bethiv sighed, a shadow crossing his face. "It’s not good, hero. Much of the south-western border has fallen. We’ve spent the last month hunting parties of Risen and killing liches, but we haven’t even put a dent in them."

"The last fortress standing is Brackencliff," Korra added. "We’ve set up a sort of headquarters there, but I don’t know how long it will last. Honestly, it was pure chance we ended up in Sylvarus when we did, and pure luck we managed to defend them this long."

"Is that where the rest of the company is?" I asked, "I only feel about five thousand here."

Bethiv nodded. "Indeed."

"And is Sari there?" I asked.