The Forsaken Hero

Chapter 1124: Into Roann

Vorinth Nesturo. The name sent a shudder down my spine and tail, and caused my chest to tighten. There was some faint shouting outside, and somewhere, I was aware of hostile souls entering my aura, but none of that registered.

"What did you say?" I whispered.

"King Vorinth. He ascended to the throne after the death of his father and brother just two weeks before," the man said. "As soon as he did, Radia pledged full allegiance to the Church of the Divine. He was only the second prince, you know. They said it was a demonkin cult that ambushed King Rixen and Prince Alric, but many of us suspect foul play. It was too convenient, right after the king had rejected the Pope’s proposal. And what’s more--"

"Quiet," a Fatesworn barked. "Don’t speak unless spoken to."

I fell back a step, pressing a hand to my horn. Prince Vorinth...King Vorinth. Even now, I remember him. Or rather, I remembered the fear he made me feel. That first day when he’d objected to me learning magic under Selena, or when he’d nearly killed us both with an ’accidental’ fireball. I hadn’t even known what a sixth-circle spell was back then. Seeing so much mana, so much destructive power...I shuddered again.

His older brother, Prince Alric, had been kind to me during the banquet, but now he was dead?

"My Lady?" Luxxa asked, worry coloring her voice.

I swallowed hard, gathering my nerves. I managed to smooth my expression, but there was no calming my agitated tail. "How many?"

My question came out soft and strangled, but the man seemed to understand. "Almost a quarter of the city. They laid it on the entire protest that day, catching everyone in the city center. Street, building, it didn’t matter. When I saw my compatriots turning traitor to the cause, I started to run, but it was too late, and I--"

"That’s enough." A sharp word from Luxxa silenced him. Turning to me, she softened. "Does this change anything?"

"Yes." I took a deep breath. "It means at least a quarter of the city, and all of their families, won’t be fleeing when the demons come. Hundreds of thousands of innocents...they’ll throw themselves into the battle to be slaughtered for the gods they tried to rebel against. By the time the demons make it to the cathedral and break the curse, it’ll be too late."

Radia had been quiet during our approach. Silent, even. That alone should have triggered every alarm in my body. They had weeks to prepare for the infernal host, and yet, now that they were here, everyone just turned in for the night?

"You," I said, turning to a man holding his wife. "You’re not cursed. Why are you still here? Why didn’t you evacuate?"

It took a few seconds for him to gather the composure to answer. "M-My Lady," he stammered, grimacing through the title. "We couldn’t leave. They...They threatened everyone that if we did, we’d end up like..." he swallowed hard, glancing at the one I’d just freed of the Heart Crest before averting his eyes.

"Damn them. Have they no shame?" Luxxa muttered. "Using their own people as shields?"

"Thank you," I said, offering the soldiers a small curtsy.

They saluted as I turned and left, my hair whirling behind me. Luxxa and others moved to catch up, surrounding me as we returned to the base camp.

"I don’t like that look in your eye, my Lady," Jenna said.

"You’re not thinking of going after them, are you?" Luxxa asked.

"I have to. Once the demons hit the city, most will try to flee, but they won’t make it. Over a million people are living around the Divine Throne. They don’t deserve to die for the sins of the gods."

"What’s this I hear about you leaving?" Fyren asked as we approached.

"I’m going after the shard. They’ve enslaved the city, through fear or the heart crest, it doesn’t matter. Millions will die."

Silence. Bethiv, Fyren, and the heroes stared at me.

"You can’t be serious," Korra said. "We need you here."

"So we can protect you," Fyren finished for her. "Did you forget everything we talked about? If something happens, and you...your life is worth far more than mere million mortals."

"You must rethink this," Bethiv said firmly. "We don’t have enough Fatesworn to send you with a proper escort."

R’lissea nodded, gripping her skirt. "Your aura’s a dead giveaway. If you spend any amount of time in one place, it will lead anyone right to you."

Korra took my hands, holding them tightly. "These are the people who spit on you and cast you out. They rejoiced when you were sold to Lord Byron. They wanted you to die!"

I closed my eyes, letting out a slow breath, and squeezed her hands. "I know, but...isn’t it a good thing? If I break the enchantment, the church will lose all that support. There might even be soldiers forced to fight through it. That could be taking out tens of thousands of combatants. Maybe hundreds."

"But that’s not why you’re doing it," Korra pressed.

I paused, then shook my head. "No, it’s not. I’m doing it because I want to. Your war," I said, including Bethiv, Fyren, and the rest in a sweeping look, "Is to destroy the church. But mine is to save it. To save the people from their gods. What better time is there for a star to shine than when it’s surrounded by darkness?"

Another long pause before Bethiv let out a heavy sigh. I turned to him, holding my breath.

"It might be possible," He admitted slowly, rubbing his chin. "If you take your fate demon and wolf, you could strike before they know you’re there. How long will it take to break the enchantment?"

My tail jumped. "A few seconds."

He raised an eyebrow, and my cheeks warmed.

"Well, um, a few minutes...at the most. Really!"

"Enemy scouts just hit our perimeter not three minutes ago," Fyren said. "Their absence will be noted before long, and we’ll be hit by everything they can throw at us. If you’re unable to return in time, you could be cut off behind their lines."

"I can break through," I said confidently. "Fable can."

"I don’t doubt that. But the shard will be heavily guarded. They’ll know the demons are after it, and will be expecting foul play," Fyren replied.

"But Luke said they’re going to--"

"It doesn’t matter what our plans are, only what they think our plans will be. As far as I can tell, your proposal poses too much risk and offers nothing to gain. Do you still wish to pursue it?"

"You mean you’ll let me?"

The demon snorted a lick of white flame. That it came from his human form was unnerving.

"If you wish to save these people, then I won’t stop you. I’ll join you, of course, but know that I still don’t approve."

"My opinion is the same," Bethiv said.

"I understand." I lowered my head, carefully measuring my tone. "But even so, I’m going."

"Xiivyah..." R’lissea said. "Please, be careful."

"I’ll go with you," Korra said.

"Not happening. I need you here," Gayron said, laying a hand on her shoulder, gently prying her away from me.

I gave them all a small smile, but it quickly faded. Seeing their faces, my friends, my chest tightened. Something didn’t feel right, but I couldn’t quite name it. Maybe it was just because of Fate’s warning, or the lack of visions I’d had about this battle. But I wasn’t turning from my path.

Fyren and Iran to the other side of the field, just inside the perimeter of our defense. Across the narrow roads and magically dug embankments, I could see enemy soldiers beginning to muster. A few lights on the horizon had neared, signaling that the skyships were bearing down on us.

Borealis expanded in a cloud of golden light, undoubtedly catching their attention. Fyren scooped me up in his arms and leaped onto his back, Fable close behind. With a flap of his wings and a flip of my stomach, we were soaring across the city again.

Radian soldiers gaped as we streaked over them, cutting across their forming battle line before they could fire a single arrow or spell. We accelerated, climbing with every beat of Borealis’s wings, but remained low enough to the ground that the surging eddies breaking off his wings were visible buffeting across the roofs below. Squads of soldiers scattered for shelter as it ripped through the streets and alleys, tossing them around like ragdolls.

"Can’t we climb higher?" I cried over the roar of the wind, turning my head toward Fyren. He sat right behind me, his arms looped around my waist, holding me steady. I felt tiny, nestled against his armored frame.

"And make ourselves targets of their artillery?"

As the city blurred, the towers of the Divine Throne fell behind us, vanishing behind the gentle slopes and foothills. We were low enough that I could now make out the individual threads of the heart crest, casting a tangled net over the city. Like a spiderweb, drawing tight in the direction of the massive castle built in direct opposition to the Divine Throne.

Castle Roann, the seat of King Vorinth Nesturo.