The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 127: The Dragon’s Lair

Chapter 127: The Dragon’s Lair

"Would you like me to carry you?"

I shook my head, rejecting Fyren’s offer for the third time. As much as I yearned to give in and relax in his arms, this mountain, and the dragon beyond, was something I was determined to face on my own.

But sheer willpower only carried me so far. Long before we reached the peak, where the magic circle continued to turn, my legs shook, threatening to collapse. The endless slog through the marshes and up the mountain had drained my strength almost entirely, and I was rapidly losing that which remained.

Several paces ahead, Soltair and Trithe spoke in hushed tones, reviewing their strategies and training from the last several weeks. Despite their outward confidence, their hands often rested on their sword hilts or clenched anxiously at their sides.

The mountain we climbed was part of a much more extensive range, forming the tip of a ridge on the eastern side of the slopes. Further west, the true giants jutted into the sky, marking the boundary between the Kingdom of Radia and the Cerxov Empire.

At long last, we reached the beginnings of the rocky cliffs marking the peak. I stopped, gasping for breath, and looked out into the sky, where the magic circle hovered. It was so close yet lazily spun just out of reach. Many of the runes were unfamiliar but emanated a terrifying amount of mana.

"Here?" Soltair asked, curiously waiting patiently as I examined the circle.

"Yeah. The dragon’s lair should be around here somewhere. Sustaining a magic circle this large requires an immense amount of mana, and transmitting that over long distances would create far too much waste. So-"

"Thanks," Soltair interrupted me and turned to the nearest cliff face. "Now, to find the boss roo-er, I mean dragon’s lair."

While the Sun Hero ran around, knocking on rocks and frozen trees, I collapsed onto a nearby stump, my head slumping.

Fyren squatted beside me, resting on his heels. "You should have let me carry you. Didn’t I tell you not to push yourself?"

Despite his concern, a slight smile teased his lips. I shook my head, too tired to explain myself. Frankly, I found his amusement frustrating. Naive as I was, I was no child for him to scold. Why was he in such a good mood, anyway? Didn’t he know how hard this was for me?

"Are you prepared to fight?" he asked, ignorant of my inner thoughts.

"Do I have a choice?" I asked sullenly.

He chuckled, leaning back and looking at the billowing storm clouds above us. "No, I suppose not. Not if you want to save them."

His response portrayed the sense of distance I’d come to expect from him, but I wasn’t in the mood to let it go.

"Doesn’t it matter to you?" I asked, wincing as it came off sharper than I intended.

"Does what matter?" His serene expression didn’t slip.

"All those people! If we hadn’t happened to come this way, they would all be dead. Even now, if we fail, the entire city will disappear, and an Infernal Dragon will be set loose."

"Is that what’s weighing on you?" He released a long, pent-up sigh before meeting my eyes. His tranquil gaze absorbed my exasperation, and I felt my anger ebbing. "Sometimes, someone sees so much it no longer phases them. They become numb to the horror of it all and learn to look ahead. I suppose I might fall somewhere in that category. It’s pointless to waste energy thinking about what might happen. I think your goddess said it best. What’s going to happen will happen."

"Fate," I whispered.

Were we truly meant to be here, at seemingly the right place and time? Or was it all a coincidence? The thought bothered me for a moment, but then something he said struck me. Numb to it all? Didn’t Fate tell me something similar once?

"You’re not from here, are you," I said, more than asked.

"No, I belong in this world even less than you do."

He admitted it so easily I doubted whether he understood what I was referring to, but my doubts vanished as he reached into his shirt and retrieved the amulet. The angel spun gently on its golden chain, glittered in the fading sunset.

"One day," he said slowly, "You’ll understand what this means. Just know that I’m not here for Enusia itself. In the grand schemes of those above, one world matters not. Heroes, on the other hand, are filled with potential."

Soltair and Trithe’s voices sounded distant, and I realized they’d wandered further up the mountain. I burned with curiosity, to understand who Fyren truly was and the purpose of his mission, but he stood.

"We’d best be joining them. I sense a fight coming on."

My legs protested weakly as I summoned my staff and rose to join him. But, as I started to walk off, he caught my arm.

"Xiviyah, nothing matters more than your safety. No matter what happens, you must stay alive."

His sudden intensity left me breathless. But, as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. He hitched his pack up and drew his sword. I followed wordlessly behind him, leaning on my staff as we stumbled up the broken rocks.

Soltair and Trithe stood between some cliffs, staring into a cave. The inky blackness yawned open, seeming to swallow any of the light that trickled in. It was fifty feet wide and penetrated the ridge at a shallow angle. Thousands of long, white scratch marks laced the rock, growing deeper wherever the tunnel narrowed. In one ridge, nearly thirty feet off the ground, was a red scale wedged deep within the rock.

Soltair’s smile was a blend of fear and anticipation. He grabbed Trithe’s hand, giving her a gentle squeeze, before turning to me. "Any last spells?"

I was well aware of the limits of patience, so I quickly channeled a few more spells into the Nexus. The spell lasted as long as I continued to supply it with mana, which, considering its efficiency, meant I could sustain it for a day or two without trouble. Additional spells layered atop it added to its draw, which was why I had only been adding spells as needed. Once cast, removing them without canceling the entire array was impossible.

As the magic circles for Mirror Sphere faded away, I lowered my staff. "I’m ready."

Soltair summoned a Divine Star, keeping it high overhead to light the way. After a hundred feet, the tunnel began to lean to spiral to the right, descending like a serpent’s spirals. It widened as we descended, almost doubling in diameter after several minutes. The ground and walls were slick with ice, but the grade wasn’t so steep as to make it a concern.

Our footsteps echoed before us, announcing our presence, so I cast a Sound Ward, silencing our approach. The spell had a relatively small radius, a mere fifteen feet, but had the advantage of allowing noise in. I glanced at the Divine Star, whose false sunbeams were just as likely to reveal our presence, but could only resign myself to the risk. Soltair, Trithe, and Fyren needed to see, after all.

After what felt like ages of endless rock and darkness, faint noises bounced up the tunnel. Soltair raised a hand, signaling us to stop, and looked at the Divine Star. Shrugging helplessly, he snapped his fingers and the star vanished, plunging us into darkness.

He raised his hand and began summoning swirling ribbons of sunlight. His eyes narrowed as he experimented with the light, trying to control their brightness, but his progress felt painfully slow. After a minute of unsuccessful attempts, I Soul Cast a modified Light spell, controlling the magic until it retained only hints of its typical radiance.

Soltair slapped his fingers, glaring at me for some reason, and Fyren’s mouth dropped in shock. I glanced at him in confusion. Sure, it was the first time he’d seen my modified spell, but shouldn’t he know what I was capable of by now? Still, it wasn’t often he showed this much emotion, so I took a moment to bask in his reaction.

With the light under control, we progressed smoothly once more. Before much longer, the tunnel flattened out and took one final turn, this one much sharper than the rest. Muffled voices echoed down the passage toward us, causing us all to freeze in fright. The assorted voices, both male and female, were spoken in a tongue I didn’t recognize. Fortunately, the hero’s blessings I received upon awakening managed the translation.

"Keep it steady!"

"Back, back!"

"Mind your own business!"

I glanced at the rest of the party, but found only Trithe looking around. Soltair and Fyren listened intently, seemingly ignorant of her confusion. Soltair had the same blessings as me, but Fyren...

I canceled the Sound Barrier and leaned over to whisper, "Do you know what language that is?"

Soltair cast me a quizical glance. "What are you talking about? The same we’ve always been speaking."

"Demonic," Fyren muttered. "They’re speaking demonic. Judging by their accent, they’re locals. Looks like our demon cult didn’t get wiped out, after all."

"You can understand that?" Trithe asked, staring at Soltair.

He nodded, still appearing baffled. "Well, yeah. Can’t you?"

"It’s one of the heroic blessings," I explained. "Soltair just hasn’t met anyone who didn’t speak the common tongue."

"Wait, really? Why didn’t they tell me about that?" Soltair complained. He immediately clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide with guilt.

Fortunately, the voices continued with pause, allowing us all to sigh in relief. "Sorry," he muttered, ducking his head.

Fyren shook his head. "We need to know what’s going on. Xiviyah, could you go take a look?"

My stomach dropped as my name suddenly came up. "Me?"

"If the light gets any closer, they’re sure to notice us."

"Oh. I-I’ll do my best," I stammered.

Waving my hand, I sent the light to hover above the others and cast another silence. As I continued alone, the tunnel felt much wider and exposed, so I clung to the wall, creeping up one step at a time. The voices got louder as I approached the bend, but I pressed on, trusting in my magic, and peaked around the corner.